Luckless
by NinaQ
Summary: Everything about her was the same. Even after all these years, he'd recognized her, but it made no sense. There was no way she was the same woman. It couldn't be. He had watched her die. ExB. AU
1. Chapter 1

_AN: I know it's been a while. I'm sorry for the delay, and I hope this is worth the wait. This chapter sets the groundwork for what comes next, but by the time it's over, many of you will want to throw things at me. Please be patient. _

_Be aware: the images get a bit graphic here, and I apologize to anyone who might have been in Anchorage on that fateful day. I hope I did it justice._

_I owe special thanks to BellaMed. She pre-read, helped keep me motivated, and has turned out to be a lovely new friend._

_And thank you to Starpower31/Bella and Alice's White Rabbit from Project Team Beta. Their help was very much appreciated._

* * *

Friday, March 27, 1964.

EPOV

I smiled as Carlisle fidgeted in his seat again. For him, being the immortal that he was, it was practically jumping up and down. I'd rarely seen him this excited about anything. It was unusual, and I was taking perverse pleasure watching him.

"I'm still not sure why you need this piece of equipment, and why you can't just wait to have it delivered," I said to Carlisle for the second time in as many hours. Thankfully, our trip from Denali to Anchorage had been uneventful. The pilot had dropped us at the end of the runway before taxiing away to refuel and reload supplies. Adjusting my hat and buttoning my overcoat, I looked around the private airfield. A few small planes were off in the distance, but I didn't see the truck we were supposed to meet. As much as I enjoyed spending time with my father, I was not thrilled at the prospect of spending three slow days driving back over rutted Alaska roads.

At least the snow had stopped and the wind had died down, making it easier to see. Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be much happening on this dreary Friday morning. One small plane was just touching down on a runway to the north of us. A few scattered outbuildings had people milling about, but it looked like business was slow. When Carlisle had said we were meeting his delivery, I'd expected a bustling area of commerce. Instead, I'd found flat land and runways cleared of snow, but not much else. I turned when I heard a door open.

A scrawny young man of about twenty-five walked toward us. He moved quickly, and I soon realized his motions matched his thoughts. His mind worked faster than most I'd seen. Not only had he received notice that our delivery was late, but he'd anticipated Carlisle would be upset with the delay. He'd already worked out ways to help us deal with the inconvenience. I smiled a bit, trying to keep track of the stream of details, and Carlisle sent me a questioning look. I shook my head to indicate it wasn't important.

"Are you Dr. Cullen?" the man asked. He'd walked out of the main building, which I considered _main_ because it was slightly larger than the others and had smoke rising from the chimney.

Carlisle and I walked toward him. "I'm Dr. Cullen and this is my son, Edward." We shook hands during the introduction. I loved the convenience of living in Alaska. Handshakes were easier without having to make up stories about why my hands were so cold.

"I'm Steve," he said and kept talking, barely pausing to take a breath. "I'm pleased to meet you. We just got a call from the shipping company telling us that your delivery will be late. The truck carrying your machine hit an elk and won't be here until tomorrow. If it gets here by noon, we can get it loaded; otherwise, it'll have to wait until Monday because of the Easter holiday."

"The equipment wasn't damaged, was it?" Carlisle asked, interrupting him. My father had a one-track mind when it came to new technology for his practice.

"No, sir. They said there was damage to the truck, but the driver and the cargo are fine. I hope you don't mind, I called one of the hotels in town but they wouldn't promise you a reservation. You'll have to talk to them when you get there. Ask for Stuart and tell him I sent you. We have a pickup truck we use for errands, and you can borrow it for the night. It's not fancy, but it'll get you there. Will you need a map?"

My attention wandered while I listened to Carlisle thank Steve, tell him we didn't need help with our bags, and accepted the keys to the truck. On the other side of the airstrip, the small plane I'd seen landing had come to a stop. I was surprised to see it was a military plane. A member of the airport staff was standing outside waiting for the passengers to appear. While Steve's thoughts had been fast but orderly, every thought in that man's head was a jumble of dread, centering on one of the passengers in that plane. His inner tirade was shouting through my head; he might as well have been waving a giant red flag in my direction.

The first to emerge from the plane was a military officer in full uniform. He straightened his coat and looked around with a sneer before smoothing his expression and looking at the next person to emerge. I'd expected a junior officer to be accompanying him, but I was pleasantly surprised.

My first glimpse of the woman was her leg, but it was a truly amazing leg. It was perfectly shaped and would put the best sculpture to shame. The skirt was just the right length to make me want to see more. I held my breath until the other leg emerged and she climbed down. The petite brunette was in an olive-green uniform, like the officer, but she was less decorated. I wished I'd paid more attention when Alice had talked about the strides women were making in the armed services; at least then I'd have a better idea of her rank and role. She awkwardly pulled on an olive trench coat while managing to not lose hold of a steno pad and pencil. Another man, presumably the pilot, descended and stood at attention near the plane. The officer shot off rapid-fire questions, first to the pilot, then to the man from the airport. He didn't wait for answers. He just started yelling about the poor state of their welcome. The junior officer scribbled notes on her steno pad and studiously tried to keep up. Mentally, I reached out to this odd little trio, hoping I could get past the airport employee to find out about the young woman.

The pilot was concentrating on remaining at attention and answering quickly. He was hoping that the officer, who he had mentally named The Dick, would get a ride into town soon and let him fly back to base. Several memories ran through his head, and it was obvious this was not the first time he'd been berated by The Dick. It had occurred often and could be about anything: the weather, the size of the plane, even the coffee. The degrading memories eventually morphed to bloodthirsty daydreams of running the landing gear over The Dick and parking it on top of his chest. The image made the pilot smirk, and his shoulders relaxed. As the officer continued to rant, I decided that The Dick was a perfect name, although I'd never repeat it to anyone.

The officer's mind was awash in his own desires. I'd only encountered a few other people with thought patterns that selfish. I'd turned my concentration to the young woman when something drew me back. While The Dick was busy berating the airport staff because their car wasn't ready, he was looking at her. In his mind's eye, he was attempting to coerce her into bed, acting as though he had an interest in her romantically. He'd tried before, and it hadn't worked. She'd always managed to outsmart him, getting out of the situation somehow. Now he had her away from the base. If sweet-talk didn't work, threatening her job would probably do the trick. He had three objectives for this trip: resolve his office supply problem, meet the Senator to discuss funding, and get Private Charles into bed. It didn't matter whether she wanted him or not. His thoughts were borderline sociopathic, and I looked her over, wondering if she knew the danger she was in.

Within a fraction of a second, I decided I wanted to protect her. I couldn't explain it, and it seemed crazy, but there was something unusual about her. I'd only seen her for seconds, across a cold, semi-deserted airfield, but I want to protect her.

The Dick had called her Private Charles. It wasn't enough; I needed her full name. I started thinking of ways I could refer to her in my head, but I couldn't come up with anything that would fit.

I wondered if she knew what his intentions were, but I couldn't get any information from her. Her mind wasn't blank. I'd encountered that before with the desperately ill. I tried again, but there was no running verbal commentary as I found in so many people's thoughts. There were no visual images either which I sometimes found when people process information intuitively. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I concentrated so hard that my hands started shaking, but there was nothing. For all I could tell, she wasn't there. The wind picked up a bit, and she pulled the collar of her coat tighter, looking around. She scanned the area slowly before settling on me. I knew it was too far for her eyes to see me clearly, but I couldn't help believing she was staring at me, sizing me up and measuring the distance. Her attention was pulled away when their car arrived.

As the large, dark-blue Lincoln Town Car navigated around piles of snow and pulled next to them, the officer began a new round of abuse. He entered the car first, leaving her to fend for herself, and when she was seated, the man from the airfield closed the door and tapped on the roof, indicating the car could leave.

"Better her than me," the pilot muttered. He was relieved to be away from the officer and happy he'd received orders to head home.

Carlisle had watched me gazing at the young woman, misinterpreting my interest. He looked from me to the car and back again before chuckling and shaking his head.

_I'm glad to see you appreciating the beauty God put on this earth._

I made a gruff sound under my breath, cutting off his editorial comments. "We need to leave now," I hissed, walking toward the beat-up red pickup that was ours for the next twenty-four hours. Our only luggage consisted of two small bags, and we didn't really need those, but it was good to keep up appearances. We waved a last goodbye to Steve and walked to the old truck as fast as we could without raising suspicion.

My father would want to know what the rush was about, and I needed to think for a moment. It was time for a distraction, so it was best to go back to his favorite subject.

"You didn't answer me," I said when we were on the road. "What's so important about this particular machine?" I had the gas pedal pressed to the floor, but the truck was barely managing the speed limit, and even then, I had to swerve around a moose in the middle of the road. Between the elk that wrecked Carlisle's shipment and this moose, it seemed the animals in Alaska had a death wish.

"This is the first piece of medical equipment based on radar and sonar technology," he practically gushed. "It's revolutionary. For the first time since the x-ray, we'll have another option to see the structure or damage under the skin without cutting the flesh. We can see how an organ is functioning within the body while the patient is still alive. It's fascinating, and I'm willing to put in extra time and effort to take this home. I can't imagine the lives we could have saved during either of the world wars if we'd had this technology."

"What's your plan? Where will you use it first?" I asked. I'd keep him talking until I could find her again. I pressed the accelerator a little harder.

"I'm still not sure. They've been testing it for several years, and I want to review the full research before I decide where to begin. A few of my patients have said that they won't be guinea pigs for anything new. We'll just have to see, but we need to get it home and installed first." He fell silent, then seemed to notice our speed, looking at the road and then at me. "Edward, is there a reason you're pushing this old truck to its limits when we're stuck here for the night?"

"Were you paying any attention to the other plane?" I asked, glancing over at him.

"No, I was concentrating on getting the details of the delivery. I only noticed because you were watching the young woman." He was smiling at me again.

"The officer is her supervisor. He brought her along to make sure she doesn't have an opportunity to ... refuse him," I said. "They were heading into town to check into a hotel. I'd like to meet them at that hotel. Maybe I can stop him or warn her."

"I'm proud of you son. Not many people would want to get involved."

I shook my head, feeling self-conscious about it all. I probably shouldn't get involved in whatever was going on between The Dick and that young woman, but there was something about her that drew me in.

There weren't many hotels in town, and I decided to check the one Steve had recommended first. It made sense that their group would be directed to the same place. It was a well-maintained chain hotel, a bit nicer than some we'd stayed in over the years.

It only took minutes to find them. Private Charles was standing in line at the counter. The Dick was seated in the lobby, reading through a sheaf of papers, muttering. He thought checking in was beneath him. I walked up behind her and waited. She glanced at me and looked away quickly. I could see her tense up, seeming to close in on herself and move as far forward as she could. Watching those actions, it was incredibly frustrating to not know her thoughts.

Carlisle looked from her, to me, to the officer waiting in the lobby.

_That's him?_

I nodded slightly.

_I'll go keep him busy. See what you can find out. _

When she got to the desk, she made small talk with the owner. He was an older gentleman who looked like Marlin Perkins from that animal show Emmett liked. They chatted about the weather, but she was tapping her foot as though she wanted him to hurry. Instead, he took his time, turning on the charm. Within a few sentences, I was hanging on her every word. I must have been gawking like a schoolboy. It was the first time someone had spoken and their words were a total surprise. She kept glancing over her shoulder, not meeting my eyes, but measuring the distance between us. I waited for her to look up, but it never happened.

She was dressed head-to-toe in army green, with neat stockings and small heels. Those outstanding legs were even better up close. Underneath the cap, her hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and I wondered how long it was.

Stuart cleared his throat, and I realized I'd been caught staring again.

Carlisle had engaged The Dick in conversation, but his mind was already drifting back to Esme. His body might be in the lobby making stilted conversation with a blow-hard, but his heart was in a big log cabin in Denali.

As she read and signed the necessary paperwork, Stuart turned to me. "What do you need?" he asked, looking me up and down, frowning.

"Are you Stuart? Steve from the airport sent us. I was hoping you had rooms left."

"We've got one left. With the holiday, I don't think you'll find another vacancy in the city. Do you want it?"

I nodded and pulled out my wallet. While he'd been talking to me, she'd finished signing. Not glancing up, she slid the paperwork back.

He handed her two key rings, one red and one blue with oversized bronze-colored keys attached. "This one is for the suite, and this one is for the standard room. Please let me know if you need anything else."

Pulling on pristine white gloves, she took the keys and slipped past me with her head down. Her refusal to meet my eyes might mean she was timid, but I didn't believe that. There still weren't that many women in the armed services, even in the 60's. She wouldn't be able to compete if she were meek. It must be me. She was probably one of those people who had an unconscious awareness of vampires and kept her distance out of self-preservation. It was plausible, but it still didn't explain why I couldn't hear her. No, there must be more to it.

Carlisle continued talking to the officer, but his heart wasn't in it.

The Dick listened half-heartedly, waiting for Private Charles to return and mentally picturing her naked in his bed.

As she approached the men, Carlisle stepped back, seeming to fade into the woodwork. The Dick stood up, and I saw him take the key to the suite. He wasn't thrilled when she told him she was on a different floor; getting her into his room would be more difficult now. He'd worry about it later, but first he needed to get the damn meetings out of the way. He ordered her to drop the suitcase in her room and meet him out front. I was surprised how quickly she left the lobby, and it made me wonder if she knew what he had in mind.

"Did you still want the room?"

Stuart's too-loud question and matching smirk showed that, again, I was caught staring.

I'd completely forgotten I was still standing at the desk. I stammered out an affirmative and tried to pay attention to what he was saying. It occurred to me that, while I was stuck there, it couldn't hurt to try to get some information.

"The woman who checked in before me, has she been here before?"

"Nope."

"She looked really familiar, I'm just trying to figure out from where. Did she say where she was from?"

"Nope."

_You're going to have to do better than that. You sound desperate. He thinks your intentions aren't honorable._ _I can tell that without mind-reading. _Carlisle watched my failure, and I swore his shoulders were shaking.

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes. It wasn't like I had much experience trying to get information about women. I'd never really been interested in the opposite sex.

No matter what I tried, Stuart stayed quiet. His thoughts confirmed Carlisle's suspicions. He didn't trust me and had no intention of helping me.

As he pulled our room key from the drawer, I could see their organization system. Individually labeled boxes held the keys for the rooms, and each floor had a different colored key ring. I was disappointed when he handed me a yellow key ring. We were on a different floor than Private Charles.

We dropped off our luggage and headed back downstairs. There was no reason to sit in the room, and the family had given us shopping lists. I'd tried to tell Alice we wouldn't have time to shop, but she'd just smiled and said something about 'never knowing when an opportunity might present itself'.

"Well, if we're stuck here, we should at least be productive. I'd hate to face the wrath if we went home empty-handed. We can flip for it," Carlisle said. "Heads shops for the women, and tails shops for the men."

I generally tried to get out of shopping whenever I could, especially for my mother or sisters. The ladies list was full of embarrassing items, and at the risk of sounding selfish, I got no benefit from the purchase of feminine things. I certainly didn't look forward to the looks I got shopping for stockings, lotions, and makeup.

"You're on," I told him, watching as he fished a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it in the air, allowing it to make several loops before catching it and tossing again.

The streets were crowded with shoppers trying to pick up last-minute items before the stores closed. The crush of people made it difficult to block out the near-constant mental chatter. Occasionally, I'd walk past someone who was eagerly looking forward to seeing family for the holiday, but just as often, I'd find someone dreading a similar gathering.

A different set of melancholy thoughts turned my head. A boy about twelve-years-old was nailing a lost dog poster to a telephone pole. There was a description of the animal and a phone number. I would keep watch for it, but most animals hid from us. The odds of me seeing it weren't good.

We stopped walking when we reached Fourth Avenue, and our shoes settled into the slush at the curb. A theater marquee was still advertising _The Birds_, and I shuddered, remembering the time we'd gone to see _Psycho_. The crowd was so upset, Jasper practically flew from the theater, and he's refused to ever see another movie.

Carlisle pulled his hat low and nodded at me knowingly while he handed me the quarter. We'd done this a hundred times over the last forty-odd years. I'd only won a few times, and he was sure his luck would hold. I took the coin and rubbed Washington's head with my thumb a few times before flipping it high into the air. It rotated end-over-end before I slid my palm into its path and snagged it. For me, it was as though the coin had been standing still. With a quick flip, I turned it over onto the back of my waiting hand.

"Heads." Carlisle laughed low to himself and held out his hand for the shorter list. "I'll meet you here at six. Good luck." He started in the opposite direction, whistling as he walked.

I folded the longer list and tucked it in my pocket along with the quarter. A sneaking suspicion crept into my thoughts, and I slowly pulled the quarter back out. I didn't believe Carlisle would intentionally use a double-sided coin, but I wouldn't put it past Alice to sneak it to him. I verified that it was just a plain quarter, and this was nothing more than a case of bad luck. I'd simply have to make the best of it. Looking up the street, I saw a ladies dress shop and trudged that way.

Forty minutes later, I'd had a shopping bag full of stockings and perfume delivered to the hotel. I wandered down the street trying to figure out where to find the makeup Alice had requested. I was reading the sign for a mom and pop store offering books and special-order office supplies when I saw something through the plate glass window. I couldn't put my finger on what seemed unusual, but I was drawn inside. Entering the store, I walked along the side wall, pretending to be browsing a rack of classics. A raised voice echoed through the store, and the agitated thoughts of several people came with it. I knew immediately who it was.

The Dick was standing with Private Charles. Shameless eavesdropping told me the scared-looking couple with them were the store owners. They were waiting, obviously hoping he wouldn't make a scene. Private Charles was still in her standard army uniform, standing behind him with a clipboard. On seeing me, she glanced down and wouldn't return my gaze. I tried again to get a reading on her. Still blank. It wasn't a fluke or an isolated incident. Knowing this was none of my business, but not really caring, I walked closer.

The officer began to rant and rave about some problem with a delivery of supplies sent to the base. The owners were doing their best to placate him and offering a refund for the incorrect items. While he continued to talk, Private Charles made notes on the clipboard, her facial expression blank. When he paused to take a breath, she looked up for an instant. I'd managed to move into her line of sight, and our eyes met. Almost too fast to track, anger, fear, and wariness crossed her face.

"Private Charles, are you paying attention?" The Dick snapped. She looked away and shook her head slightly before turning back and assuring him she was paying attention. He looked at me and scowled, thinking the handsome young man was the reason his normally attentive assistant was now failing in her duties. His eyes narrowed, obviously seeing me as a threat to his attempted conquest. I smiled slyly. I liked him thinking I was the reason she couldn't concentrate.

"This is a private conversation. Go on about your business," he ordered.

"I'm just looking for a book."

"We'll be right with you," the store owner said. His eyes flicked to me briefly as he thought about how to please the officer and get him out of the store quickly.

I made a show of walking toward the back and browsing through a rack of blank journals. I settled on three to give as gifts: the first was a rich, red leather one for Carlisle, one had an interesting art deco cover design Alice would love to use as a sketch book, and the third was unlined with a cover in Jasper's favorite shade of confederate gray. I was thinking about what I could pick up for the rest of the family when the floor started to undulate.

For an instant, I thought someone was moving large equipment in the back of the store because the vibrations seemed to be moving through the building's foundation. When the shaking intensified, I realized what was happening.

"Everyone into the door frames. Now!" I yelled. This wasn't my first earthquake. Most people were fortunate enough not to experience one. That's part of the price of living a very long life; you experience more of the tragic and unusual. Moving as fast as I could with the floor seeming to roll in waves, I sprinted toward them.

The officer had scrambled for the closest doorway, leaving everyone else standing in the aisle. The owner had fallen to his knees and was having trouble getting to his feet. His wife was pulling on one arm, and Private Charles was pulling on the other. I heard the front window shatter and the owner's wife screamed, dropping to the floor next to her husband. I picked her up and carried her to the doorway, dropping her near the officer. As I turned back to the aisle, I heard a deep, rumbling sound that reminded me of a freight train just before I heard an ear-splitting crack from the floor joists.

I watched in horror as the groaning floor seemed to separate from the foundation and the walls, sections tilting deeply to the right, then splitting into so much kindling. The shelving closest to the rear wall fell first, crumbling into a void below. Knowing what would happen next, I pulled Private Charles and the store owner into the aisle. As the floor continued to tilt, everyone fell to their hands and knees. I dug the nails of one hand into the floorboards, barely managing to stay in place while I held an arm around Private Charles with the other. She held fast to the owner, pulling him toward her and away from the falling debris, and I could see her knuckles were white with the effort. The remainder of the shelves full of books tilted and began to topple, barely missing the three of us. The sounds of cracking wood, people screaming, and rumbling earth made logical thought impossible.

As abruptly as it had began, the shaking stopped. I kept my place, still spread between my grip on the floor and Private Charles and looked around the room verifying that everyone was uninjured. The owner's wife was still crouched in the doorway, and she was holding her arm, but otherwise, I saw no injuries and could smell no blood.

The officer was in the doorway, his mind blank with fear. He made a small whimpering sound, and I could suddenly smell the acrid scent of urine.

"Okay, everyone hold still," Private Charles said, filling the power void. "We don't know if it's over."

This must have been too much for the officer. He pushed off the doorframe and began looking around. Breaking free of Private Charles' hold, the owner crawled up the tilted flooring toward his wife. When he reached her, they sat, stunned; he wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't move. The glassy look in her eyes worried me. If she was in shock, I'd need to tend to that. Medical school was good for a few things even if I didn't want to practice.

Pulling my nails from the floor, I kept my hold on Private Charles, and moved slowly toward the little group of survivors, trying not to slide too much.

"Is everyone all right?" I asked, not directing the question at anyone specifically.

"That's enough, young man. You're not in charge here, I am," The Dick snapped at me. I looked him up and down, from his wide eyes to the wet spot on his pants, and simply nodded. It wouldn't do any good to contradict him and draw attention to myself.

"Sir, we need to get the civilians out of here before there's an aftershock," Private Charles said.

He made some noncommittal sound, and both Private Charles and I began to move toward the older couple. The tilted flooring made it difficult to stay upright. Occasionally, books or other items would slide down the incline and disappear. Staying on my knees, I gently took the wife's uninjured arm and began to pull her toward the jagged, broken frame where the front door was hanging from one set of hinges. It was slow going, using my nails to ground myself and staying as low as possible. I had an image of trying to rescue someone on cracked ice. You wouldn't make it unless you stayed flat and spread out. The wife followed along behind me in a state of near panic, her feet scrabbling for traction on the tilted floorboards.

Getting her to the front door, I found that the sidewalk was now a good three feet above its previous location. I lifted her up and out of the building. The floor gave a shuddering groan as I moved back to get the husband. He was in slightly better mental shape than his wife, and Private Charles held his hand, moving with him and meeting me halfway. I got him to the door and helped him up, where she was waiting and crying. I was happy to see the tears. At times like this, anything is better than the blank stare of disaster victims.

Private Charles was right behind me, and I grabbed her hand. With the doorway partially blocked, I needed to get her into the right position to lift. A very definite spark moved between us when our hands met. I was just about to comment on it when the shaking began again. This time, it started slow with a few shakes before the rolling took hold. From outside, I could hear unfamiliar voices warning the husband and wife away from the door. Their voices receded. I was thrilled they had gotten to safety. I wasn't so sure the rest of our group would be that lucky.

I felt the final crack of the floor joist just before I heard it. The last of the hardwood started to splinter, and I slid down the incline where the floor was no longer joined to the wall. We tumbled, rolling along with the debris until we landed in what had been the basement; now, it was just a hole in the undulating earth. When we'd finally stopped falling, I could feel her reaching for me in the near-darkness. I grabbed her hand, ignoring the spark and pulling as gently as I could while moving toward her. We met in the middle, and I covered her with my body. Pieces of the roof rained on us, and I did my best to keep her protected. As awful as it was to know the roof was coming down, daylight began to stream in through the cracks. My vision is fine in any light, but this situation will be easier if she's not in the dark.

It was the worst possible timing, but I inhaled. Mixed with the dusty, moldy smell of destruction was the most intoxicating aroma. It was floral and rich and not like anything I'd encountered before. The only explanation for the wonderful scent was the lovely creature below me.

"Oh, God," she cried softly as the shaking ended. I looked down and saw that her eyes were focused off to the right. Following her gaze, I found the officer. His head was bent at an odd angle and his eyes were open, staring but not seeing. I didn't have to attempt to hear his thoughts; he was beyond our help. It was uncharitable of me, but I wouldn't be asking Carlisle to pray for his soul. He did enough damage here. He's on his own in the afterlife.

I pulled myself off of her and worked to get upright on the shifting pile of books, shelving, and broken floorboards. Shaking the debris from my hair and clothing, I watched as she worked her way toward him, cradling her left arm. She reached over and quickly closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she stood and surveyed our situation. The expression on her face darkened, and I dearly wished I could read her thoughts. Chestnut locks had broken free of the bun, and she used her free hand to shove them back.

"We need to get out of here before there's another aftershock," she said, and I thought it was more for something to say, than to give us direction.

I surveyed the room before speaking. "Agreed. The question is: how to get out without you getting killed."

"Don't you mean without us getting killed?" she asked, her lips pursing into a fine line.

"Of course that's what I meant." I tried to insert some panic into my voice. It would explain the error.

She stumbled toward the wall where the front of the store used to be. I knew she was cutting her feet on the rubble as I could smell the blood. There was no way to know where her shoes had ended up.

The front door was still visible, although the sidewalk had moved again, and there was now only about a foot of daylight showing. There was a gap of about twelve feet between us and that sunlight. She made a couple of half-hearted calls for help, before giving up.

Looking around, I realized we would have to fashion something from the debris if she was going to climb out. I searched for anything to use as a frame when a loud pinging noise began, followed by the sound of rushing water. With horror, I realized a water pipe had broken. My odds of getting her out alive had just dropped significantly. It was time to stop thinking about appearing human and just get out of there.

"Okay, this is what's going to happen. I'm going to climb up and out of that hole, and you're going put your arms and legs around me. You're going for a piggyback ride."

"No one can climb out of this, and even if you could, I can't hold on." She held up the arm she'd been cradling. "It's broken. Besides, only one person at a time could squeeze through that hole." She looked around and gave a harsh laugh. "I might be able to climb a ladder, but we're short on those."

She looked at the rapidly rising water and said a word most gently-bred ladies don't use.

"Then we need to think fast. We're about to be covered in near-freezing water," I said as though she couldn't plainly see what was happening.

Moving across the floor, I picked up a half broken shelving unit and balanced it against the wall below the doorway. "No time to make something sturdy. We're going to have to climb using what we've got."

I stumbled back to get another portion of the shelving unit, carrying it over my head as though it weighed nothing. I was beyond worrying about what she thought, and if it seemed strange that I could carry twice my body weight, she said nothing. My only concern was getting her out of there alive.

"We need something to reinforce these," I muttered, trying to think about what materials Emmett used when he fixed things around the house. We stood together, looking around the ruined basement, hoping inspiration would strike.

"Will these work?" she asked, going back and unlacing the officer's shoes. His belt followed. I hated that she was touching his corpse, but the situation required drastic measures.

I took broken slats of flooring and used them as splints to hold the edges of the shelving together, cinching them with the ties we'd scavenged and adding my belt. It formed the crudest ladder I'd ever seen. She wasn't heavy, and it only needed to support her for a few minutes, so I hoped it would be enough. As I set it against the wall and attempted to brace it on top of the debris, I could hear her begin to shiver. The water was now lapping at her toes. It wouldn't be much above freezing at this time of year. I only had a matter of minutes now.

Over the rush of water, I heard the rescuers approaching the doorway.

"We're down here!" I heard her yell. "We're going to try coming up."

One of them answered in a muffled affirmative, and I saw them in the partially blocked light.

"Okay, I think this will hold," I told her. "Let's get you out of here before you freeze." I held my makeshift ladder steady as she took the first few steps. She moved one foot, then the other, before leaning into the ladder and moving her functioning arm up a 'rung'. Her bloody feet were practically in my face, the scent inspiring a hunger I'd never imagined. I held my breath.

The first three steps went quickly, and I was proud to see her go. This was obviously no weak-kneed miss. She knew what needed to be done and was going to make it happen in spite of her pain and fright. The ladder shifted slightly, and I leaned in close, using my body as a brace. My feet were now covered in icy water.

Three things seemed to happen at once. First, I heard Carlisle calling to me mentally. He was approximately a mile or so off. He was fine but was working to stabilize a woman who'd been hit by a falling traffic light. Second, another face appeared in what remained of the doorway, calling to Private Charles and encouraging her on. Third, there was another popping noise and the sound of rushing water sped up, flowing at almost twice the speed it had before; then it suddenly stopped altogether. The absence of the sound of rushing water echoed in my head.

"It's starting again! Go faster!" I yelled. She made it up two more shelving unit 'rungs' before the shaking began. The people above her were holding their hands out, calling to her. I saw Private Charles stand on her bloody tiptoes, holding her good arm high, trying to reach them when there was another ear-splitting crack. The center of the building's foundation split. The rear of the shop rose several feet, while the front fell. More roofing rained down. She held on for longer than I thought she could, but a large section of a rafter broke free and rolled, dropping, falling toward her as though in slow motion. She ducked, and it missed her head, but it hit the ladder just below her legs, forcing me back. The flimsy structure crumbled.

I expected a scream as she fell, but heard no sound, until she hit. The gruesome, tearing sound of a jagged beam pushing through her tender flesh was a sound I'd never forget. The last streams of daylight were now pouring in where the roof had been, and it illuminated the horrific sight in front of me. This beautiful, brave young woman lay atop the newest layer of debris. From the angle, I knew her leg was broken, but the protrusion of broken wood emerging from her chest just below her sternum made me cry out. Surprisingly, she turned her head toward me and gave a small smile.

"I think we're done trying to get out," she said softly, and began to cough. Soft bubbles of bright-red blood emerged at the corners of her mouth.

"Don't talk. You need to save your strength," I told her, crawling close enough to take her hand, noticing that it was almost as cold as mine.

"No reason to," she whispered.

"Don't talk like that. My father's a doctor, and he's on his way. We'll get you out of here." I couldn't bring myself to tell her there was no hope.

Carlisle! He could change her, the same way he'd changed Emmett for Rose. All these years I'd never understood why my sister tormented herself carrying a dying Emmett home, but now I knew. I looked around frantically, and the rescuers were back, watching though the hole, yelling to us. If I pulled her free, she'd bleed to death before I got her to Carlisle. If I tried to change her myself, I'd probably kill her and have witnesses as well. I couldn't find an option that worked, and I was running out of time.

"You're not a good liar." She smiled at me ruefully. "People don't survive this. Please pull me off. It hurts, and I'd rather go fast."

Did she understand what she was asking? I didn't think I could do it. We'd fought to survive together. I'd witnessed her selflessness and her tenacity. I wanted her to survive.

"If I pull you off, you'll bleed to death," I said softly.

"It's okay."

There was more coughing and blood ran out of the side of her mouth. I reached out and gently wiped it away with one finger, ignoring the surge of hunger.

"You've tried so hard to save me." She stopped talking and closed her eyes, taking slow and shallow breaths. "It was more than I would have ever expected. Thank you."

"I'm sorry." It wasn't enough, but it was all I had.

There didn't seem to be anything else to say. Remaining on my knees, I moved closer so I was even with her shoulders. Bending low, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, wishing I could cry; her death deserved fanfare and a twenty-one gun salute, not dry eyes. I grasped her upper arms and pulled. I felt her right shoulder snap in my grip before she was free of the wood. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and inhaled sharply but made no sound. The smell of blood became overwhelming and tore into my lungs. One side of her mouth curled up in a half-smile before her head tilted to the side, and her eyes went blank.

The disaster went on around me, but everything inside went quiet and still. Sounds were muffled and echoed, like I was underwater.

I sat alone, breathing in the scents of blood and destruction mingled with her gentle floral sweetness. My hand shook as I reached out and closed her eyes.

The rescuers were back, shouting through the hole above me. I looked up, wondering how they could possibly still be functioning. Didn't they know someone extraordinary had died?

"Edward," Carlisle called from the hole. "Are you okay?"

I peered up at him, cocking my head, but not figuring out how to respond. I turned back to her and simply stared, trying to understand how she'd gone from being alive one minute to dead the next. A tiny part of my brain realized this wasn't rational; I'd been around death countless times.

"Edward, look at me, son," he ordered.

I rubbed my finger gently across her cheek.

_Edward! You're in shock of some kind. Nod if you can hear me._

I nodded, but I didn't look at him.

_I'll send the rest of them away, and you can jump up to me. Do you understand? _ He talked to me in that overly-cautious doctor's voice he reserved for trauma victims. Is that was this was? Had I been involved in a trauma?

"I won't leave her, Carlisle. She deserved better," I whispered, knowing he could hear me. I knew I was being irrational. This was a young woman I didn't know; I'd barely spoken to her, but I had to do the right thing for her.

"Edward, I'll make sure they take good care of her, but right now you have to come up here. There are survivors. I can help them, but I need you with me. I need to know you're okay." He was speaking vocally and it wasn't his words, but his tone that snapped me out of my reverie.

If we'd gotten out, she would be the first one running into those buildings looking for survivors. She couldn't help them, but I could.

Reaching out, I brushed a stray lock from her cheek. As I walked, the debris shifted under my feet, but it didn't take long to reach the front wall. Carlisle claimed to hear someone calling from the building next door. When the rescuers went to see, I scaled the wall and shimmied out of the tiny doorway hole. After the tight confines of the basement, the street felt open and exposed, and I wrapped my arms around myself and sat down on the cracked pavement.

With disbelieving eyes, I looked right and left, surveying the damage that extended as far as my vampiric eyes could see. Great sections of Fourth Avenue seemed to have fallen a dozen feet or more, with one side of the street sinking into the earth. The death and destruction weighed on me, and I lowered my head to my knees.

Carlisle crouched beside me for a few seconds, giving me the reassurance of his presence, but not pressing. I didn't stop him when he ran off toward a man they had just pulled from a collapsed two-story building down the block.

My conscience wouldn't allow me to sit and wallow when there were so many people in need, and when I showed up at Carlisle's side, he gave me a nod. We worked all through the night, going from building to building, searching for survivors and caring for them. So many people shared the same shocked, vacant expression I knew I wore.

By morning, searchers from other cities had arrived. While Carlisle and I would have preferred to keep going, we knew that it wouldn't look right to keep working without food or sleep. It was torture to pretend to choke down the soup and lie still for hours, knowing there were more people we could help. When the appropriate amount of time had passed, we went back out.

Two more days came and went that way, until we decided there was enough help and we were beginning to attract attention. We managed to contact the trucking company and found out Carlisle's ultrasound machine was destroyed when the road buckled. Thankfully, the driver was safe, but the machine was a total loss. There was damage at the airport, so flying out was not an option. I bought us a shoddy car, and we left Anchorage with only the clothes on our backs. We had a map of the damaged areas of road, and with luck, we could get home in a matter of days.

A few hours into the drive, I stopped in a small town, far enough from the damage path to know they still had phone service. Carlisle got out to top off the tankm and I walked to the pay phone across the lot.

It took two rings before Alice picked up. She didn't have to speak, and we each waited with the connection open between us.

"You saw." It wasn't a question.

"I did, just before it happened, but I'm not sure I understand it all. Come home and tell me all about her."

* * *

_Well, we have a beginning. Chapter 2 is on the way._

_Raum has made me a lovely banner, and I'll put an address for it on my profile. I'll also add addresses for links with historical details on the earthquake and Bella's uniform._

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_My thanks to Lyta7 and Arones at PTB. They had fantastic suggestions! _

_I truly appreciated the great response to the first chapter. Thank you so much!_

_As always, I don't own any of this. _

* * *

Present day. EPOV.

"Emmett, I'm not so sure about this. Where did you say you met this guy?" I asked as we left the car. It was late Friday night, and the street was crowded with young people looking for a good time. I smoothed my black silk shirt and wondered for the dozenth time why he'd dragged us here. I would have rather just stayed home and read.

"Stop asking so many questions. This dude is cool, and I want to see him again. Rosie and I met him at the car show. He was working security at the VIP event. Austin watched the people and the cars more than he did Rose—that's how I knew he was a stand-up guy." Emmett paused to lean over and give Rosalie a peck on the cheek before continuing. "We started talking, and he passed me his business card. I wanted to check it out. Besides, the girls got to dress up," Emmett said as though it explained everything.

"If he didn't notice me, it might mean he's gay. Did you think of that?" Rose asked.

She'd put extra effort into her appearance tonight. It was worth it judging by the stares we got while crossing the street. If she were my wife, I'd have asked where the rest of the skirt was, but Emmett was one of those guys who didn't mind people ogling his wife.

"Very funny, baby," Emmett said. "I've got to respect a guy who takes his job that seriously. He said the club was cool, and we should drop by."

"I'm just happy we get to go somewhere. I'll take any excuse to dress up and get out of the house." Alice said, pulling Jasper across the street toward the door. He smiled that lazy smile of his and let her tug on his arm, but it didn't move him any faster.

An intricate neon sign above the club door flashed multiple colors. The rest of the building was nondescript red brick, and at that point, I saw nothing to be excited about. On one side of the building, a bakery was closed for the night, and on the other side, an alley looked dark and dangerous.

There was a line of people down the sidewalk, but Emmett waved the card at the bouncer by the door. The guy noticed, waved us up, and gave us each the once over. We must have passed the test, because he unhooked the rope and motioned us inside.

Jeers and boos came from the crowd behind us, but the bouncer ignored them. Their noises were drowned out as the door closed behind us. A surge of dance music came forward that would have drowned out normal conversation. Of course, we had no problem hearing.

"Holy shit!" was the first thing out of Emmett's mouth, and I completely agreed with him.

Through the crowd of people, I could see the freestanding bar in the center of the club. It was made out of sheets of glass, not glass block. The bar surface and side supports were also made of long stretches of opaque glass. Multicolored lights behind the bar flashed in time with the music. Shelves suspended from the ceiling held every kind of liquor and glass imaginable. Four bartenders, one on each side, appeared to be working the crowd and filling drink orders for waitresses in tiny T-shirts, shorts, and ankle boots.

At one end of the club was an enormous dance floor with thousands of tiny lights suspended above it, just out of reach of the dancers. Those lights changed color as well, sometimes pulsing with the music. Opposite the dance floor was an open area with booths, tables, and couches. Everywhere I looked, I saw scantily-clad women pursuing, or being pursued by, well-dressed men. This was why I hated going to bars. Practically every head was full of thoughts of sex, and that included my siblings. It was a drain on my mental block to have so many people in such a small space. As much as I could, I tried to keep them out. Knowing I wasn't the only one this crowd could affect, I turned to Jasper.

"You going to be okay?" I asked.

"As long as I get to take Alice home tonight, I'll be fine," he replied with a sly grin.

I grimaced, truly hating when he said things like that.

While the rest of us stood by, Emmett looked through the crowd, searching for his friend. We'd only been waiting a few seconds before crude thoughts from men around us became too loud for me to ignore. The mental images got worse as they continued to watch Alice and Rosalie. I maneuvered myself between them and placed a protective hand across each of their bare backs. Some of the men noticed the gesture, and their thoughts moved on. One particularly descriptive brain conjured up images of the three of us together, in positions no siblings should ever be. I glanced around but couldn't find anyone staring, and the images were gone. Eventually, Emmett spotted his friend. He waved us over, and we headed that way.

"Emmett, I'm glad you could make it," a tall man yelled, working to be heard over the music. He was outfitted head-to-toe in black. There was a small earpiece sticking out through his thick head of black hair. "Who did you bring to see us?"

"Austin, this is my wife, Rosalie, her brother, Jasper, and his wife, Alice. Behind them is my brother, Edward, but don't mind him. He'll probably just sit in a corner and look superior." Emmett pretended to shoot me with his finger, and I rolled my eyes.

"It's good to meet you all. I'm glad you could make it. Come upstairs. It'll be easier to talk there."

He led us up a staircase and into what must have been the VIP section. "The guys at the door have been told to send you here every time you visit. I like spending time with people who have good taste in cars, so you're always welcome," he said with a smile. We settled into an empty, circular booth with a low table in front of it. He waved a hand, and a waitress rushed over.

We ordered drinks and chatted with Austin. He'd been working at the club three years, and I could tell he enjoyed the atmosphere. It was interesting to watch him in action. The entire time we talked, he watched the comings and goings of the workers and patrons. Not that he wasn't paying attention to us, but he was very aware of the fact that he was still working. For him, it was important that he maintained order in his little part of the world even when schmoozing with new VIPs.

He was right—It was quieter here than on the main floor, and that made it easier for him to hear us. While this area was difficult to spot from the entrance, we had an excellent view of the entire club. The VIP section was a bit darker, quieter, and more luxurious, as expected. There were only a couple of empty tables, and there were two additional bartenders working a smaller station up here. I supposed it wasn't good to keep important people waiting.

A beautiful woman walked by in a short, tight, red dress. She smiled at Austin and quickly glanced around the table. Emmett's arm was draped over Rose's shoulder, and Alice was all but sitting in Jasper's lap. I was alone, and that made me a target. She gave me an intense stare and then glanced toward an empty couch a few tables down.

"Thanks, Denise," Austin said quietly. "He just got here. Let's give him some time to relax."

She nodded politely and walked away while Alice stared after her.

"Is she …" was all Alice managed to get out.

"She is," Austin said, nodding. "There are several ladies working here this evening. Think of them as subcontractors. When the boss took over, he tried to keep the business out, but the trade was always here. This way the girls have the protection of club security, routine medical examinations, and we only take a small percentage. Their lives are better, both in terms of health and safety."

"You make it sound so dry and official. Where do the _transactions _take place?" Rosalie asked. The ice in her tone said a storm brewed.

"Hello. I don't think I've seen any of you here before. Looking for some company?" I heard Denise ask. She'd moved on to a different booth, but I could still hear her clearly. Leaning expertly across the table, she offered up a full view of her breasts. It may have looked seductive to those businessmen, but mentally she was trying to figure out how to make next month's rent. The cost of the lawyer had emptied her meager savings, but it was worth it to get the restraining order in place. She was slightly disappointed when the businessmen waved her off, but the night was still young.

"I can tell you're not happy with the situation, but it's just business," Austin said to Rose. "The ladies are only allowed in the VIP area. We know these guests deserve their own bathrooms with lounge areas, so we've provided that. How they use those areas is up to them. We don't ask questions. I know it seems foreign to you, but it's actually a win-win for everyone involved." Austin turned away for just a moment before putting his hand up to his earpiece and saying, "I'm on my way."

Turning back to us he said, "I'm sorry, I have to go. Duty calls. Please enjoy yourselves, and come see me if you need anything. Emmett and Rose, it was good to see you again." With a nod, he strode off and went down the stairs.

"I can't believe they let that go on here!" Rose said.

"Why does it upset you?" Jasper asked. "We're certainly not the first generation that has prostitution. The world's oldest profession has that name for a reason. I never partook, but I knew some very nice young ladies who made a fine living during the war."

"But she could be a waitress. Look at all of them here! That's an honorable profession. Then she wouldn't have to do _that_."

"Rose, I'm pretty sure she makes more than the waitresses," I said. "Besides, she's got a little boy to take care of."

"I still don't think it's right," she protested. "And what if her little boy finds out about it?"

Emmett sat back and watched the discussion, not willing to get involved. He truly didn't have had an opinion either way.

"I'm not sure you can make a distinction between right and wrong here. It's more a case of what people are willing to do," I said.

"Enough!" Alice called, tapping a pointed finger on the table. "We are not going to solve all the world's troubles. Rose, we came here to dance. So, let's dance!"

She grabbed Rose's hand and pulled her toward the stairs with the taller woman protesting the whole way. The girls disappeared, leaving the three of us at the table. I watched Austin weave in and out of the crowd. He checked in with the bartenders on the main floor, asking questions. He walked up to the DJ booth and chatted with him for a minute before going back to his search. I've seen people make rounds at their job, but this was different. Our new friend was searching for something, or someone. I was trying to isolate his thoughts out of the bustling crowd below when I realized Emmett was talking to me.

"Well, Edward. If you feel like ending your hundred and seven year dry spell, you know where to come," Emmett said with a laugh. "That chick was really into you."

"Believe me, she wasn't. I should know." I replied then pretended to take a sip of my drink. I wasn't sure what was in that cup, but it smelled awful.

We spent a few minutes talking about nothing in particular, watching the girls dance and have fun. At one point, they bounded back up the stairs to pull Emmett and Jasper down with them. As usual, I stayed behind, not wanting to be alone on the dance floor amid the crush of bodies and the thoughts of the crowd. The _dancing_ mostly included grinding against one another, teasing and taunting. I just wouldn't know what to do, and I wasn't about to go through that awkward _learning_ phase in front of my siblings. I'd never hear the end of it.

When I wasn't watching the mating ritual on the dance floor, I kept an eye on Austin, who still made rounds and looked for something. He headed down a hallway to the left of the VIP area and returned after giving a status report to someone in an office. He was closer now, and it was easier to read him. He was looking for Denise's boyfriend. In spite of the restraining order, someone had seen him here tonight.

I was now fascinated by Austin's search. This was better than any television show.

As the night progressed, the dance floor got more and more crowded. Alice pulled Jasper back upstairs to sit for a few minutes. She wasn't tired, so it must have been to keep me company. A few minutes later, Emmett and Rose joined them. Austin came back after another round of the floor.

"Hey, guys. Having a good time?"

"This place is great," I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw shock register on Emmett's face. "You've been walking around quite a bit tonight. Is that standard, or are you looking for something in particular?"

"One of our ladies had a problem at home this week. Her ex-boyfriend received a restraining order today. One of the bartenders swore he saw him earlier. I'm just making sure there's no trouble."

Just as he finished speaking, a woman emerged from the office hallway. She was dressed in a black T-shirt, revealing a firm, tight stomach and breasts that were perfectly proportioned for her body. Black jeans and black calf-length boots completed her outfit. Those boots were just a bit too masculine to be flattering. Her dark, brunette hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she wore little makeup and no jewelry. A tiny earpiece was clipped into her right ear. Anyone could see she meant business—no matter what the business might be. I would never have admitted it in front of my brothers, but I found the combination of fit and tough far more appealing than Denise's obliging offers. No one would dare take a baseball bat to anything she owned.

"Austin, who's that?" Alice asked, nodding to the newcomer who looked in our direction.

"Oh, that's our second-in-command. She wanted to come out and take a look for herself, just in case Jimmy turned up. She said she had a feeling he'd be here tonight. I've never been able to tell how she knows, but she's usually right about these kinds of things."

As I looked at her, I realized there should have been thoughts from another person in the office when Austin had given his update. I hadn't picked up on one. I quickly tried to read her but got nothing. It was like she wasn't standing there. Sitting up straight to get a better look, I tried to see beyond my attraction. My head spun, and I couldn't stop staring.

It couldn't be. Could it?

_Dude, stop! You look like you're going to hurt yourself. What's up? _Jasper asked without speaking.

"I can't read her, and I think I've met her before," I replied low so only my family could hear.

Jasper didn't reply, only raised his eyebrows and watched her.

As if sensing our evaluation, she turned and paused for just a second. She walked to our table with a slow, purposeful stride and a completely neutral expression on her face. Someone must have asked a question in the earpiece, because she lifted her hand and pressed a button before giving a quick affirmative answer and clicking the channel closed.

"Austin, please introduce me to your friends," she said quietly.

"Boss lady, I'd like you to meet some new friends," Austin said. "Everyone, this is our assistant manager, Bella. Don't let her scare you off. She's only like this at work, and her bark is worse than her bite." Austin had meant the introduction to be humorous, but his thoughts said it was a joke with an iron rod of truth running through it.

"Welcome to Skin and Bones. Please let me know if you need anything," she said, nodding at us, keeping her distance, and not presenting her hand to shake. At the sound of her voice, I was instantly confused. That voice was imprinted on my perfect vampire memory. As clearly as if it had happened yesterday, I could hear her calling to me and asking me to pull the wood out of her chest. I could hear her cry out in pain as I pulled her torso free from the spike of debris. This fierce young woman couldn't be her daughter or even granddaughter. I'd watched her die. I must have been mistaken because there was no other explanation I could come up with. My puzzled musings were interrupted when she spoke again.

"Has Austin taken care of you?"

"Yes, thank you," Alice replied. "It's so beautiful in here."

"We try to keep our customers happy. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she said.

"You're a woman. How can you keep hookers on staff? Don't you find it demeaning?" Rose asked bluntly.

Bella smiled, which I knew was not the reply Rose expected. "On the contrary, it's good business. The ladies have a clean, private, safe place to work, and we have a loyal group of employees to keep our customers happy. We have almost no turnover and routine medical examinations. Just like any of the other employees, they have to submit to drug tests, but they have the rights, privileges, and protection of any other valued member of the team. I can see where it would be easy to judge when you don't have all the information. However, when that's how you choose to earn your living, it makes perfect sense."

"They have no other choice. You're taking advantage of them, you bi—" Rose's retort was cut off when Emmett shoved his face forward, pressing his lips to hers.

Awkward silence fell across the table, and Austin blinked twice before our hostess broke into another small smile.

"I can see this will be the table to watch. I'll put you on the potential trouble list." I got the impression she wasn't kidding about that list. I was also sure that Rose's big mouth wasn't the reason we'd be watched.

"Don't mind us. We're no harm to anyone," Emmett reassured her with his biggest, innocent smile. His arm was around Rose, and she lifted an elbow to give him a shot in the ribs.

Bella opened her mouth to reply when Denise gave a loud squeal. A big man with a scraggly, dirty ponytail dragged her toward one of the private bathrooms. From where I sat, I heard him muttering in her ear.

"Denise, you dumb bitch. How dare you! You think a piece of paper is going to keep me away? I'll show you who you belong to." He continued to rant as he pulled her along the floor. His eyes were wide with adrenaline, and based on the size of his pupils, he was running on some sort of controlled substance.

"Let me go! Jimmy, you're hurting me," she cried. Her high heels couldn't get purchase on the carpet, and he continued to tow her with her feet pinwheeling across the floor.

My family's thoughts ranged from Jasper wanting to interfere but knowing that it would only draw attention to us, to Alice's sympathy for Denise, and Rose looking on with a grim sense of satisfaction. The I-told-you-so rolled off her in waves so thick I had trouble tuning it out.

In response to her cries, Jimmy pulled at her arm harder and made a twisting motion. Even with the music from the dance floor, I could hear the snap of her wrist. Alice cried out and turned into Japer's chest. Rose's mental chatter abruptly changed. She pondered killing Jimmy and removing his testicles.

A tall, lanky man from the crowd attempted to come to the rescue. He tried to pull her away, but Jimmy shoved him hard, and the good Samaritan flew into the table behind him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella running.

As Jimmy pushed the bystander down, he lost hold of Denise. She fell to her knees, cradling her wrist. With the rest of the crowd, we moved toward the hall, knowing it would attract attention if we acted disinterested. Jimmy grabbed for Denise again, this time getting hold of her hair. He shoved her roughly into one of the bathrooms where she landed on her knees. He tried to close the door, but Bella put her shoulder against it, blocking his way.

With no hesitation at all, Jimmy pulled his fist back and swung at Bella. She made a graceful move to the side, just far enough for his fist to miss connecting with her jaw and collide with the door frame. For the second time that night, I heard the crunch of bone. Jumbled rage filled Jimmy and spurned him on. Whatever drug he was on seemed to make him impervious to pain. He came at Bella with his head down, roaring incoherently. Stepping backward, Bella moved out of the doorway, and the crowd parted to give her room. She let Jimmy advance, and just as he reached her, she turned her body to the side. Putting one hand out, she snagged his left arm and let his momentum push him past her. With a quick jerk to the right and a boot to the back of his knee, she pushed him down onto the floor face-first.

Jimmy kept struggling until Bella pushed on the arm twisted behind his back. He let out a strangled cry and stopped moving.

She leaned down and whispered into his ear, far too low for any humans to hear. "Why would you do this? We've been nothing but good to you and Denise. Don't ever come back here. Do you hear me?" Bella shook him slightly with the last question.

He gave a bellow of rage and started struggling again.

She cranked on his arm once more, and he grunted in pain and fell silent. "Denise told me she saw a lawyer. Is this the restraining order?" she asked, nodding at Austin who'd appeared behind her. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of one of Jimmy's back pockets. "This means you shouldn't be here, doesn't it? You shouldn't be anywhere near her," she said with deadly calm.

"Boss, Denise needs to go to the hospital." Austin managed to scrape a crying and disheveled Denise from the floor. She cradled her arm and black mascara tracks ran down her face.

"How's her wrist?" Bella asked, never taking her hands or her eyes off Jimmy.

"It's broken. I'll have Lauren run her to the hospital."

"That's a shame," she said softly. "You know what else is a shame, Jimmy? When someone who's breaking the law refuses to go quietly and gets hurt being removed. Do you think you can go quietly? We don't want you getting hurt."

In reply, he bellowed an obscenity and thrust his head back viscously, attempting to slam into her.

The motion torqued Jimmy's arm one last time, and I could hear the distinct sound of the bone popping out of the socket. His scream of pain echoed above the thumping beat of the dance music.

Austin reached around Bella and hauled a whining Jimmy up, grabbing the back of his shirt and his ponytail. He marched him to the office I'd seen earlier. As they walked, Bella pressed a button on her earpiece. "Hey, Sinjan, we've got an audience up here. I could use a distraction."

With Austin keeping Jimmy bent low, Bella followed behind, staring straight ahead, looking at no one. They passed close enough that I could clearly make out the chemical, meth smell of Jimmy. Austin followed, bringing the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. Directly behind him followed an aroma so enticing it almost brought me to my knees. I had the answer to my puzzle. Bella wasn't a distant cousin to my girl from Alaska; this was the same young woman. No one else's blood called to me like that. It had to be her.

Jasper's head whipped around as confusion, delight, and attraction surged through me.

_What the hell's going on? _he asked.

I shook my head minutely, letting him know that I'd tell him later, and we watched as Austin and Bella marched Jimmy down the hall. They were quickly followed by two bouncers.

Within seconds I knew what kind of distraction Bella had asked for. One of the bartenders on the ground floor gave an earsplitting cry and began to juggle liquor bottles. The lights on the dance floor dimmed, and the lights embedded in the bar began to pulse with his throws. Everyone in the VIP section who'd stopped to witness the fight turned to watch the show below. After a few throws, the first bartender began launching bottles over his head. They were caught with perfect accuracy by the bartenders on the other sides. It would have taken countless hours of practice to miss the shelving above the bar. People gasped with each near-miss. Within minutes, everyone in the club cheered and catcalled at the perfect synchronicity of the show. Any of the VIPs not watching had gone back to their own tables.

We settled back into our booth, and Jasper turned to me. "What the hell is up with you?" he asked.

"This is going to sound crazy, but Bella is the girl I watched die during the Alaska earthquake. Do you remember me telling you about what happened that day?" I sat back and watched their reactions.

"Of course we remember, but what you're saying doesn't make sense. You're sure?" Alice asked. "I mean she might just look like her."

"No, I was struck by the resemblance when we first talked to Bella, and I thought the two of them might be related in some way. We've all had that happen over the years. You meet someone's children, and you're surprised by the resemblance to the adult you knew. I thought she was a great-niece or something. But when she walked by, I … Alice, that's the same scent. I'd know it anywhere."

"Well, what do we know about her?" Jasper asked, keeping an open mind and gathering information.

"Nothing other than what Austin told us," Emmett said. "I'm not sure I can get him up here again after that fight."

"We know I can't read her. I couldn't read her then, and I still can't," I said. I hoped I sounded logical, like I was reciting facts. The problem was I didn't feel logical. I felt like I was losing my mind.

"And now we know that I can't see anything after she's involved," Alice said softly, her eyes slightly unfocused. I watched her thoughts as she searched into tomorrow and beyond. Although everything was fine before we'd arrived at Skin and Bones, there were now large sections missing in her visions of our futures. It was like watching a corrupted digital playback. The visual skipped all over the place.

"Well, maybe we'll just have to come back to find out what's going on." Alice said, breaking into a grin and unable to contain her enthusiasm. This minor mystery suited her to a T. She'd get to work on a puzzle, get dressed up and go dancing.

We ordered another round. We'd have to pretend to drink while we watched the crowd. The rest of the working girls spent a few minutes off the floor but reappeared later. A few had mascara smudges under their eyes, and I could tell they were worried for their friend. She was liked by the rest of the group, in spite of her poor choices in men.

Midway through our drinks, Bella appeared outside the office door. A moment later she was greeted by a uniformed police officer, who was followed by a plainclothes detective. They each shook Bella's hand, and she led them into the office.

I tried to mentally monitor what was going on in there, but it was fairly boring. They made small talk first; Bella asked about the detective's wife and the two kids he had in college. They must have known each other fairly well, or she wouldn't have known those things. When it was time to get down to business, Bella gave them the copy of the restraining order and passed Jimmy into custody. Denise's profession never came up, and she was listed as a waitress on the bar's employee records. As they left, Bella shook hands with the detective, pressing her palm into his. When they pulled apart, he tucked a small package into his pocket without looking at it. I had to close my eyes and concentrate to follow him out to the car. He smiled when he pulled the pack out of his pocket, finding a few large denomination bills wrapped around a tiny bag of blue, diamond-shaped tablets. The cash was fine, but the Viagra bonus made the detective very happy, and he left thinking that no matter what Bella needed, he would make it happen. As he pulled away from the curb, he called his wife to tell her he'd be home early.

I gave a short bark of laughter that made Alice roll her eyes, and I told them what I'd seen.

We stayed until almost closing, but we didn't see Bella again. As we left, I knew there was one thing I was sure of—I was going to keep coming back until I knew what was going on. They might as well engrave my name on this booth, because I was about to become a regular.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Chapter 3 will be up soon._


	3. Chapter 3

_My thanks to and BelleDean from PTB for their review and great suggestions. The help was very much appreciated. _

_For BellaMed—Thanks for bearing with me, sweetie! You help keep me going! _

_I'm truly thankful to TwilightMomofTwo who agreed to take on the pre-reading. She's awesome! _

_Finally, I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed. The encouragement is appreciated more than you know!_

_As always, I own none of this. _

* * *

We arrived at the club early enough to get the same table in the VIP section. The bouncer from last night was watching the door. He smiled and waved us in, bumping Emmett's knuckles as we passed. Emmett had given up trying to teach me that; I either bumped too early or waited too long.

We were barely in our seats before Alice's voice echoed in my head. _Do you see her_? She was trying not to be obvious while searching the crowd.

"No," I whispered, looking around for myself. I must have been much more transparent about it, because Austin noticed and headed our way.

Last night, we had been here to enjoy ourselves and meet Emmett's new friend. Tonight, it felt like we were doing reconnaissance. In spite of Rosalie's insistence that I'd finally lost my mind, I still believed Bella was the same girl who had died in Anchorage. I just needed to prove it. When Alice and Jasper had offered to help scope things out, I'd readily agreed. Rosalie and Emmett wouldn't be left behind, so here we were, in the same booth two nights in a row. It was probably for the best that Carlisle and Esme weren't home from his medical conference yet. I didn't want to talk to him about this until I had concrete information.

"Hey. I didn't expect you guys back so soon. You must have had a good time last night," Austin said. As he stood in front of us, he was thinking he'd need to inform Bella that we were back.

"Austin, my man. Last night was great! When I find a good time, I can't stay away. Join us for a few minutes?" Emmett asked.

Rosalie started to scoot over but stopped when Austin shook his head.

"I can't stay. It'll be busier tonight, and I need to stay on top of things. Just have someone find me if you need anything." He gave a short wave and started down the stairs. About halfway, he put one hand up to his earpiece. Even through the thumping music, I could hear him.

"You wanted to know if they showed up again. They just arrived."

Bella's voice echoed from the tiny speaker. "Thank you."

Austin wondered why she wanted to know about us but decided to let it go. It wasn't his business, after all.

I thought that showed remarkable restraint; he was willing to live with a mystery. Unfortunately, I wasn't.

"She wanted to know if we came back. That must mean something, don't you think?" I asked, leaning forward, looking at each of my siblings in turn.

Through Rose's thoughts, I saw the overeager look on my face. I needed to do a better job of keeping my cool, or I'd never hear the end of it.

"Austin wasn't feeling guilty, and he wasn't hiding anything. If there's something going on here, he doesn't know about it," Jasper said.

Rose heaved a put-upon sigh. "Well, I'd love to sit here all night and play spy-versus-spy, indulging Edward's fantasy life, but I'm going to go dance. Alice, are you coming?"

"I'm right behind you. My head's been a mess since last night, and I'm tired of worrying about it. Let's go dance."

The ladies practically ran down the stairs in heels barely fit for walking. When they reached the main level, they disappeared into the crowded dance floor.

Without them, we weren't a chatty bunch, and after a few minutes of silence, Emmett swore softly. "I just can't sit here. It's too boring, and my beautiful wife is shaking her ass down there." He waggled his eyebrows at us and stood.

For a second, Emmett looked longingly at the rail. He wanted to vault over it and drop onto the dance floor.

I cleared my throat and shook my head at him.

He flipped me the bird and used the stairs.

The three of them danced through several songs, and Jasper kept me company. He was good that way. Like last night, Alice returned first, kissing Jasper, then reaching for her drink; it was important to keep up appearances. When Emmett and Rose came back, the ladies talked about the fashion successes and failures they'd seen below. I did my best to tune them out.

When I finally spotted Bella, she was walking across the main floor. I leaned forward again, watching as she wove through the crowd. A waitress stopped her and motioned toward a rumpled man at one corner of the bar. He was obviously drunk and muttering to himself. When he tried to get off the barstool and stumbled, Bella started walking his way.

Alice stood to see better, and the rest of us followed, watching from the railing.

Walking behind the bar, Bella grabbed a bottle of water and poured a mug of coffee from a carafe hidden below the counter. Instead of passing them down the bar, she walked around and sat on the stool next to him. She pushed the drinks in his direction, quietly suggesting that he needed both.

"Nice," Jasper said. "She's not threatening him. He'll have an opportunity to salvage his dignity."

From what I could read off the drunk, it wasn't going to be that easy. He'd worked hard to drown his sorrows, trying not to think about his now former girlfriend.

"I don't think so, baby," he slurred, bracing unsteady legs and getting his six-foot-plus frame upright. "I think you're gonna bring me another drink, and then we're gonna have some fun." He made a wide sweeping motion that was too fast for his liquid-filled brain. He listed to one side, like a boat taking on water.

"Drink the coffee. We don't want to kick you out."

"Little you? You couldn't kick me anywhere. I don't want coffee. I want a good time." He bent and braced his hands on either side of Bella, pinning her against the bar.

Gripping the rail, I concentrated on staying in place. I wanted to rush down there and rescue her, but there was no way I could interfere.

"You need to back up." Her voice was purely professional; she could have been asking for the time.

"Jasper, is she really that calm?" I asked. It would be fascinating to get inside her head right now.

"Yes," he said. "She's irritated but not afraid or angry." He leaned over, bracing his forearms on the rail.

"I have no idea how it ends. Is this how you all feel every day?" Alice asked, looking at each of us in turn. "It's kind of exciting, not knowing what happens."

I rolled my eyes at her, and she swatted me on the arm. When I looked back down, Bella and the drunk were drawing attention, and a few people on the dance floor stopped moving.

"You're no fun," he muttered, looking her up and down. "I'll go find someone fun." He turned awkwardly, heading toward the dancers.

Bella sat, silent and still, watching his every move.

Two songs later, the drunk was only guilty of stepping on toes and rubbing against a blonde wearing too much makeup. She didn't mind the fact that he was drunk. His advances were flattering, and he was whispering sweet things in her ear. The crowd drank and danced, seeming to forget that there had almost been a scene, but I doubted it was over. Bella must have felt the same way because she watched him with focused intensity.

She only glanced away once, looking up at the rail where we stood. I wanted to give her a cocky wave, but I nodded instead. Her facial expression didn't change, but her chest expanded with a deep inhale.

Jasper's head whipped around. _With the huge drunk, she's fine. One look from you, and she's worried and irritated. What did you do?_

I shook my head at him.

As I looked back down, Bella sprinted toward the dance floor. The drunk was trying to kiss the blonde, holding the nape of her neck while grinding his lips on her mouth. He pawed at her breast with the other hand. She twisted in his grasp and shoved at his chest.

Bella and one of the bartenders had started forward at the same time, but she was smaller and faster. She grabbed the drunk's fingers, using a swift downward motion. His hand bent backward. He cried out and let go of the girl.

The blonde took a step back, but she didn't run away. Her face was flushed, and she was more angry than scared. The other dancers stood in a wide circle, watching the action while the music continued to play.

Bella murmured low in his ear. She told him he was drunk, it was time to go home, and he didn't want to hurt anyone.

He stood still, looking down at her hand holding his. He knew it was significant, but he couldn't figure out why.

"Why would you do that?" the girl asked him, tears welling in her eyes. "I liked you." She turned and ran toward the ladies' room.

The pain in his hand finally registered. That ache and the girl's tears had finally cut through the mental haze. I could hear his remorse rolling in like a wave.

Bella let go of his hand and took a step back. She watched him, waiting for an answer to a question she'd hadn't asked.

"I don't know why," he said. As he looked at Bella, he crossed his arms over his chest, closing in on himself. "I'm sorry. Can you tell her I'm sorry? She looked just like … for a little while, I thought maybe … " He shook his head, too ashamed to continue.

Bella put her hands on her hips, watching while he pulled himself together. She didn't answer him, and she didn't touch him; she just waited. When he finally met her eyes, she nodded, as though they had settled a difficult discussion. They stood alone inside a circle of observers. Fleetingly, he wondered if unhappiness was contagious, and they were afraid to get too close.

Bella seemed to understand his thoughts; she made a _go on about your business_ motion to the gawkers. They began to dance again, but their movements were off and disjointed.

Bella walked past him, patting him on the back as she went, telling him that it was okay; things would look better in the morning.

They were platitudes, but he understood and appreciated her gesture. Still half-drunk and embarrassed, he wanted to go home and forget this night had ever happened. One of the bouncers escorted him to the door.

Bella spotted Austin standing near the bar. He was sipping a soda and looking slightly bored, but I knew he'd loved watching her.

"Letting me do your job again?" she asked.

"Why not? You're the drunk-whisperer. I usually piss them off and make it worse."

"Just call him a cab already."

"It's on the way. I called as soon as you ran out there."

She exhaled and shook her head, seeming to shrink a bit now that the crisis had passed. They sat at an empty two-top, talking quietly and watching the crowd. At one point, Bella looked up, but her face didn't give anything away.

"Well, that was anti-climatic," Rose said. "I was expecting more excitement."

"I think they try not to have too much excitement," I said, walking back to our booth.

The girls went to dance, and this time the guys joined them. You'd think that by now I'd have gotten used to feeling like a fifth wheel. While I waited, I thought up more creative ways to dispose of the near-constant flow of drinks. This was the second night of eager wait staff bringing fresh rounds. Maybe that big tip had been a bad idea after all.

When I looked around, Bella stood at the top of the stairs. She walked over and sat down, perching on the edge of the bench across from me. "Still here? I'm surprised. This doesn't seem like your kind of place. I thought you'd have gotten bored and left by now."

That surprised me. She hadn't been rude last night.

"I can't speak for the others, but I'm having a good time." I lifted my glass, letting the liquid touch my lips before setting it down. "I liked what you did downstairs."

She watched my mouth and made a huffing sound. "What do you mean?"

"With the drunk. You calmed him down and helped him get himself back together. Not everyone would have done that. Most bars would have thrown him out."

"Probably." She sighed. "In my experience, drunks working that hard to have a good time are usually just … very unhappy." She looked away and pushed a few stray strands of hair from her face.

I desperately wanted to know more. What did she mean about being unhappy? What had happened in Alaska? How had she ended up here? I was afraid to ask any of those questions point-blank and couldn't figure out how to begin.

Stalling for time, I lifted the drink again, trying to think of an opening.

"We both know you're not drinking that." She pointed at the glass. "Please stop. I understand the importance of pretending and all, but … just _stop_."

"What did you say?" I asked slowly, cautiously.

"The drink is for show. And for some reason, watching you pretending is irritating the hell out of me."

I had to concentrate while setting the glass on the table. If she was saying what I thought she was, the implications went far beyond the two of us.

Downstairs, my brothers and sisters continued to dance, but their attention was now totally focused on the woman across from me. I didn't want them to come up here and interrupt, and I hoped that somehow translated to Jasper through my emotions.

Realizing I'd been staring at her while I processed her words, I spoke carefully. It felt like I was picking through a minefield, selecting just the right phrase. How would Carlisle put this? "Can you help me understand? You make it sound as though you know more about me than I know about you."

"I think that's true. And I plan to keep it that way." She reached over and picked up my glass. Swirling the expensive scotch in the dim light, she pulled it to her nose and inhaled deeply.

"That hardly seems fair."

"You're right. It's not fair." She set the glass down and rubbed her eyes. "Listen, Edward, you've spent two nights here, and your kind is usually bored by now. It would be best for everyone if you found a new place to hang out."

After last night, and now this, there was no way I was leaving without answers. "What? All you've done since you sat down is say things that make me more curious about you. Now you make some cryptic comment about us leaving. It doesn't make sense. Besides, why should we leave? We haven't done anything wrong."

She started to speak, but waited while a waitress passed.

When she was sure we wouldn't be overheard, Bella spoke with slow, measured words. "You're right. You haven't done anything wrong—yet. That doesn't mean that you won't, eventually. And even if you don't, you could bring more of your kind with you."

"My _kind_?" There was a good chance I'd yelled it; I couldn't be certain. I paused, briefly scanning the minds around us, and relief rushed through me when no humans seemed to be paying us any attention. I could hear Alice and Emmett debating whether or not to come to my aid. Again, I sent Jasper waves of something I could only describe as _stay away_.

"God! You're going to make me spell it all out, aren't you?" she hissed.

She was obviously agitated, and I felt blind not knowing what she was thinking. I waited, not knowing what else to do. When I didn't respond, she started throwing words at me.

"Fine. Here's what I know. I know you probably belong to Carlisle Cullen's coven. I know you're probably not a danger to my customers or my staff. But I also know that wherever your kind goes, trouble follows. I don't want that kind of trouble in the bar." She took a deep breath and slowed her speech. "I'm very politely asking you to leave and not come back."

I was stunned. How could she know so much about us, right down to the details of our family? Who would have given her this information? And, more importantly, how had she survived knowing it? It was the first and most important rule—keep our existence a secret.

I had to start getting some answers, beginning with how much she knew.

"Okay, you say you know what we are. What is that exactly?" I asked. I couldn't bring myself to confirm her words. I'd need to keep her talking if I wanted any answers of my own.

"Fine," she said, leaning toward me. "Based on Carlisle's influence, you spend a lot of time outdoors since your meals are all of the four-legged variety. Unless those are some killer contacts you have on, none of you has had a two-legged meal in a long time. Considering how well everyone is behaving, you've all been _cold_ for quite some time. Or how about some other euphemisms? We could say you're sleep-denied or heartbeat-challenged. You're welcome to pick any description you like. What you are not welcome to do is _spend any more time in this bar_."

"You're not afraid of us at all, are you? How is that?" I asked, marveling at her anger and annoyance. Fear of vampires was usually deep and ingrained in humans; it made no sense that she didn't feel it. I practically itched with the longing to get inside her head.

"No, I'm not scared of you, but I'm not taking any chances. My friends and patrons are too important to have you around." With that last volley, she stood up and started to walk away.

"Wait!" I called, grasping at straws to keep her there. "You didn't tell me how you know Carlisle. Is there something he can do for you? I could bring him here," I offered.

When I'd called out, she'd stopped walking. With her back to me, she raised her face to the ceiling, and I imagined a look of exaggerated impatience. She turned back and whispered low enough that only I'd be able to hear.

"You don't understand. I don't know Carlisle, and I don't_ want_ to know him. I know_ of_ him. There's a world of difference. Don't bring him here, and don't come back." She made an exasperated sound. "God, I'm starting to sound like a broken record."

"You have to understand that we'd be curious about you."

"Your curiosity has nothing to do with me. For the last time—stay away." With that, she turned on her boot heel and moved toward the stairs. Her step faltered for just a second when she noticed Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice standing at the top of the stairs. I'd been so stunned by our conversation that I hadn't realized they'd returned. Alice stood beside Jasper; she'd grasped Emmett and Rose by their sleeves, holding them back.

As Bella walked by, Jasper registered her irritation.

I was fascinated by Bella's revelation and frustrated by how little we knew about her. Combine that with the fact that I couldn't read her at all, and I was intrigued beyond belief. For the first time, I was jealous of Jasper's gift. He had more information about her than I did.

Bella kept her head high and met their eyes. She didn't acknowledge the tiny growl from Rosalie as she passed. This time, Jasper detected a touch of amusement from Bella. It was an indulgent humor, normally reserved for small children performing adult tasks. Jasper's mouth curled into a sly smile.

"Got to hand it to the girl. She's got ten-pound brass balls," he said when they reached the table.

"I can see that," I said. "What I want to know is how she knows about Carlisle, and how she knows about us."

"You didn't get any answers about Alaska," Alice said, and I realized that once Bella had ambushed me with the get-the-hell-out routine, I'd been so stunned that I'd forgotten to bring it up. I was kicking myself for missing the opportunity.

"Can someone please explain to me why we're sitting here discussing this? She's too big a risk. We all know what we're supposed to do," Rose said, looking at each of us in turn.

"Edward, I know you don't want to hear it, but she's right," Jasper said. His face was grim as he glanced down at his hands.

Their statements didn't surprise me. Thankfully, none of the others were thinking the same way. If they did, they'd have to go through me. I wasn't letting anything happen to her.

Jasper glanced over with wide eyes. I knew my emotions were coming through loud and clear. A tiny part of me could see Rose's point. In the past, we'd moved from one home to the next with less of a threat than the one Bella posed, but I couldn't bring myself to think of leaving. I wanted to learn about her and discover what she was hiding. There was someone amazing under that tough exterior. Now, I was even more sure this was the same brave, extraordinary woman I'd seen die so many years ago.

"Alice, has anything changed?" Jasper asked. I'd been so wrapped up in my own thoughts and emotions that I'd missed Alice concentrating right next to me.

"It's still all flickers," she said, shaking her head. Speaking aloud was for the benefit of the others, who complained about our silent communications. I read the confused thoughts running through her head as she tried each possibility. Every time we decided to come back to the bar but not speak to her, Bella hovered in the background, on the periphery of Alice's vision. I didn't like the idea of ignoring Bella, but at least the vision stayed clear. If Alice concentrated on Bella alone, or if we decided to interact with her, there was nothing but flickering images.

"Now that is fascinating," I said, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I liked her courage in facing us and her conviction that we should go, but that's not going to happen," I said, leaning back. "How about another round? The night's still young."

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed. You inspire me._

_Shinrai and Mel/mcc101180 from PTB were fantastic on comma patrol and gave great suggestions._

_TwilightMomofTwo made this much better. She helps me see things in a new way. Mwah!_

_I own nothing._

* * *

If I expected Bella to disappear after her revelation, I was wrong. She walked the main floor a couple of times, surveying the crowd and making sure there were no more issues. I never saw her look up, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking about me; God knew I was thinking about her.

The blonde girl who'd been grabbed earlier approached Bella. She'd cleaned up her makeup and was attempting to salvage her night out. It wasn't the long curls and shapely legs that had drawn the drunk; she'd reminded him of his old girlfriend. Actually, I thought she looked a bit like Rose, but without the brittle anger shell.

I smiled as I picked up on the girl's thoughts. It took a few minutes for her to explain to Bella what she wanted. She was still angry at the drunk, but she was also angry at herself for not reacting faster. There was something that might help her feel better, but she needed help.

Bella smiled and asked her name. The girl introduced herself as Emily. For a second, I didn't think Bella would agree, and I was as thrilled as Emily when she did. Maybe Alice was right. Surprises had a certain appeal.

"Now this looks interesting," Jasper said, pointing as they walked to a less crowded area on the far side of the bar. Bella nodded at Emily, and they pushed two empty tables against the wall, giving them some floor space.

Bella gave instructions, and I thought they might be talking for a while. Then I heard Rosalie gasp when Bella unexpectedly grabbed Emily by the arm, pulling her forward. When the girl froze the way she had before, Bella let go and called Austin over. He was grinning, and I didn't have to see into his head to know he looked forward to this. Without speaking, he reached past Bella's ear with his left hand, grabbed her neck and yanked her forward. It was the same grip the drunk had used on Emily. Austin was almost a foot taller and had at least fifty pounds on Bella.

"What the hell are they doing?" Emmett asked.

"Just watch," I said, knowing he was going to be impressed again. "If that girl were Rose, you'd want her doing this too."

Bella stepped back while lifting her left arm as though showing off muscles. She slammed her forearm against the inside of Austin's arm, breaking his grip. When she was free, Bella stepped forward, punching at him. Her fist stopped within an inch of his nose. To his credit, he never flinched.

"One more," Bella said to Austin. "From behind."

Austin stepped behind her, grabbing her ponytail and yanking her toward him. In a move almost too fast to track, Bella stepped backward into Austin, twisting her body sideways while she raised her arm. With a windmill motion, Bella's arm swept down and back, curling around Austin's hand. Once the big bouncer was held captive, Bella made the same near-miss punch.

Emily gasped, covering her mouth with her hands before starting to laugh. Bella told her these were moves anyone could learn, and she grabbed Emily for the second time, talking her through each move. Again and again, they went through them, making sure Emily could throw off the attacker every time.

"Damn, she's a good teacher," Jasper muttered, watching as Bella gave instructions on the proper way to power a punch. "No one's going to mess with either of them."

"Dude, that's damn hot," Emmett said, rubbing Rose's back in slow, sweeping strokes.

Bella showed Emily more defensive moves and had her practice the exercises repeatedly. A few other young women joined in. For close to fifteen minutes, they had an impromptu self-defense class. It didn't take long before a crowd gathered around them, with several men volunteering to be attackers. Rosalie ran down and stood at the edge of the crowd, cheering the ladies on.

Emily was a quick study and had each of her assailants backing up within seconds. One man walked over with a challenge on his face. A quick glimpse into his head told me he was intoxicated and full of bravado. He swaggered behind her and ran his hand up her hip.

Emily froze with wide eyes. Bella looked back, questioning what she planned to do. It was a look that communicated a thousand thoughts. Was Emily willing to be manhandled, or did she want control over her body? She'd asked for help. Was she willing to use it? One short lesson wasn't enough to teach her all the defensive tools she'd need, but it might be enough to change the way Emily saw herself.

The man moved his hand higher up her hip, and he was amused when she reached over and grabbed his middle finger. Bending it back, Emily performed an awkward, improvised move, spinning on her heel and ducking under her own arm. Before he knew what had happened, she was facing him, holding his finger bent backward. He cried out in pain, and she let go, dropping the finger like a hairy spider. She was stunned that it had actually worked.

He wanted to fight back. How dare that little piece of work try to get the better of him? When Bella gazed up with a slightly bored expression, he knew he'd have to let it go. He stomped away, leaving his pride behind.

Emily danced a little jig, poking her tongue out at his back. I imagined a kitten swiping at the nose of a big dog, yowling as the dog ran away.

Watching her, Bella tilted her head back and laughed.

I'd never seen anything more lovely in my life.

Shaking my head, I looked over at the siblings I'd been ignoring.

Jasper was staring at me. _Those are some intense emotions. You might want to slow down there. We still don't know who she is. _

The logical part of my brain knew he was right to be concerned, and if I were thinking clearly, I'd be worried too. Somehow the combination of mystery, confidence, beauty and attraction had turned off my capacity for logic. I'd never experienced anything like this, and I was confused by my reaction.

The group below dispersed, heading out in twos and threes. Bella stood near the bar, nursing a bottle of water and chatting with the crowd. I saw her lift a hand to her earpiece before she glanced toward her office.

A member of security escorted an incoherent, stumbling young woman down the hall. I kept a mental line open to him and memorized each number as he typed in the code to Bella's office. Sitting the girl on a long, black sofa, he called for an ambulance, asking it to come to the employee entrance. He stayed with her, keeping her conscious until they arrived.

"Edward, it's time to go home. We're bored," Alice said.

Emmett sat at the end of the booth with Rosalie curled in his lap. I knew why they wanted to go home and worked to block his vivid imagination. The visions of Rosalie trying those self-defense moves had me wishing for a mental scrub brush.

"Go on ahead. I'll run home," I told them, distracted by the sight of Bella walking toward the DJ, weaving around dancers. More than one man turned his head and watched her ass as she walked by. A tiny flare of something went off in my gut, but I ignored it.

_Edward!_ Alice yelled in my head. "Where were you just now? I was talking to you."

When I looked over at Jasper, he was smirking at me.

"Never mind," she said with a sigh. "I'm not worried about you because I can see that you'll be home just after dawn, but please be careful. Something's wrong here."

_Really? Tell me something I don't know._ Alice was cute, but she could be annoying as hell when she was being overprotective. Of course, I'd never say that to her.

I nodded and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She was right to be concerned, but I needed to figure this out. My siblings said their goodbyes and waved to Austin as they made their way out the door.

I moved from the booth to a secluded, single table at the back of the VIP section. For the rest of the night, I entertained myself by watching the clients and staff. Human behavior was predictable, and their thoughts usually boiled down to money or sex or both. It had become amusingly easy to predict. It didn't seem to matter where or when; the motivations were the same. Bella appeared to be the exception to my rule. It seemed she was motivated by something else altogether.

When the DJ announced it was the last song, I waited until the coast was clear. Entering the pilfered code, I let myself into the upstairs storeroom, settling onto the first cardboard box that I thought would hold my weight. I felt pathetic. Here I was, a lethal predator, sitting on a case of—I looked down to verify the contents—stuffed olives while I waited to get Bella alone.

It was about an hour before the employees finished cleaning, and I heard people leaving the building. I waited a few more minutes before I opened the door.

Bella was rummaging behind the bar. She emerged with a bottle of scotch and a mug of coffee. Leaning on the smooth glass surface, she looked at the bottle; its caramel tones reflected the light. With a sigh, she put the bottle back and picked up the mug. Fishing a cell phone from her back pocket, Bella set it on the bar. When it rang, she checked the display and flipped it open. Propping her hip against the bar, she rubbed her eyes.

"Hey," she said, sounding tired. "Get back here and run your own damn bar."

"I miss you too." The man's voice was husky and held genuine affection. "How're things going?"

So this was the mysterious bar owner Austin had mentioned. A wave of animosity ran through me. I hadn't met him, but I already didn't like him.

"Jimmy followed Denise to work last night, and we had to call the police. You know how much I hate that kind of thing."

"I'm sure you handled it the same way I would have."

"Probably, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. It's been weeks already. Are you coming home or not?"

"Soon. I got a lead today, and I'm heading south tomorrow. I think I'm getting closer. Bells …" He paused.

Bella rubbed the back of her neck. "I know that tone of voice, Jake. Just spit it out."

He paused for several seconds, and nothing but static came through the line. "I ran into James today. He's been looking for us."

Pushing off the bar, Bella started pacing. It was clear this James wasn't welcome. I thought perversely that the two of us could start a club of people she didn't want to see.

"Well, maybe he should have stuck around," she said. "Then he wouldn't have to look for us. It's not like we made him take off last time."

"He knows that, and he seems really sorry. I didn't give him any information, but I got his cell number. We can talk about it when I get back. He says he regrets what he did, and I believe him."

Bella stopped walking and perched on a barstool. "He can't sweep in and expect me to welcome him with open arms."

"I know. That's why I played it cool. We'll talk about it when I'm home, and then we can decide what to do."

An awkward silence followed, until Jacob called out, verifying that she was still there. She sighed.

"I've got a problem." She was up again, moving back and forth like an agitated cat. "There was a group here last night, and they came back again tonight." Bella stopped and held her breath for a few seconds, letting it out in a rush. "The one from Alaska—he was here."

When I realized what had come out of her mouth, it took everything I had not to crow out loud. I had confirmation of what I'd known since I'd first spotted her again. What I didn't understand was why knowing the truth didn't make me feel better.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. His eye color wasn't a fluke that day. They're all the same. They must belong to Cullen's coven."

"You said 'they.' How many are we talking about?"

"Five."

A long, low whistle came through the tiny speaker.

"That's more than we've ever heard about. Did they hurt anyone? How did they find us?"

"They were well-behaved, and I don't think they know who I am. I asked them to leave and did my best to get them to go without giving too much away."

She paused, taking deep breaths, and the obvious fatigue tugged at my heart. I didn't want to upset her; I just wanted answers—and to get to know her better. She started talking again, and her words scared me.

"The whole thing is too risky. Come on, Jake. We talked about this before you left. We've already been here too long. It's time to move on. Everything's ready. We can start over somewhere warm."

"I'll try to finish up here and get home soon. I'll hurry. I don't like the idea of you there alone."

"It doesn't look like they plan to bring anyone else with them. They might just be looking for fun. The problem is _he_ keeps asking about Alaska. Get home already. We need to get out of Dodge."

"Just a few more days, a week at the most, I promise. Don't answer any of their questions. Hold steady, and I'll be there as soon as I can. I just can't leave right now. I'm so close."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before, remember?" The steel in her tone told me what she thought of his words. "I know the drill. Just stay the hell away from James. And if I have to hit the road, you'll know where to find me."

Again, he said that he'd be back soon, and he made her promise to stay safe.

With a muffled yawn, she said, "I promise. I'm crashing here tonight. The liquor delivery will be early, and with _them_ around, I'd rather not walk home. I miss you." She closed the phone and tucked it back in her pocket, heading up the dimly-lit stairs.

I moved farther into the shadows and waited for her to pass. Entering the security code, she went into the office. I heard a shower run and then stop a few minutes later. There were muffled sounds of movement, and I realized that I could recognize what she was doing based on the noises she made.

I could make out the sounds as the water ran and her toothbrush scraped against her teeth. I did my best to ignore anything I imagined she wouldn't want me to hear, knowing she would be angry at my intrusion. Finally, footsteps crossed the floor before a light switch clicked.

Within minutes, there were no sounds other than the heating system, Bella's soft breathing and the rhythm of her heart. I entered Austin's code, wincing at the noise made by the press of each button. When the automatic lock clicked, I let myself into the office.

Bella was curled on the black leather sofa that I'd seen in the guard's mind. Once again, she was dressed in black, this time in yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She wore fuzzy black socks, and I was entranced by the sight of delicate feet without the heavy boots. Her toes moved in her sleep, and that made me smile. Her long chestnut hair was fanned out to dry over the folded blanket she was using as a pillow.

Each time I'd seen her before, I had thought she was striking, but in that instant, I knew she was truly lovely. The tight ponytail and tough clothing had to be part of a plan. I figured that without those trappings, people—especially men—would see her delicate features and feel the instinct to take care of her.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I walked around the office. With a few glances, I knew it was more than just a workspace. In addition to the bathroom, there was a small closet and a kitchenette. Someone could live here for quite some time. Although well-designed, it was spartan. Everything was useful. The desktop was clean except for a plain lacquer box with an ornate lock. A modern-looking computer was running quietly. Two different monitors displayed rotating images from the security cameras, showing both the interior and exterior of the bar. I tried several, but each of the desk drawers was locked.

The attached bathroom gave no more information. Under the sink were three towels, and one more was hanging above the shower rail. The cabinet contained standard health and beauty items. The small closet held tidy stacks of clothing, all identical to those she'd worn for the last two nights. Shelves on the opposite side of the closet held men's clothing and toiletries, pushed to the rear.

I was very aware that I was rummaging through her things and violating her privacy. I did my best to rationalize it, thinking that because she knew who we were, it was only fair that we knew about her too. Plus, I still needed information about Alaska. Two tiny references during that phone call were not enough.

The problem was, there didn't seem to be anything to find. I'd seen efficiency experts with more clutter.

A small cry brought me back to the main room.

Bella's toes were moving faster, and her fingers were twitching. I could only imagine that whatever scene was playing out in her head was full of action. I sat in a chair in front of the desk and waited, knowing I should leave, but wanting to stay. I wasn't impetuous often, preferring to make logical decisions, but logic didn't seem to be helping me where she was concerned.

I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, but there had to be some sort of clue. Something that would help me figure out how she knew so much about my family and me.

The dream escalated. She turned her head from side-to-side as though looking for someone in her sleep.

"No!" She woke with a start, sitting straight up. Her heart pounded, and her eyes were wide.

Even though I was utterly still, she seemed to know I was in the room. I was surprised and fascinated. Her senses had to be better than most humans. With a single lithe movement, she launched herself off the couch and stood behind it. Her eyes flicked from the still-locked door to the desk. It seemed like she was measuring the distances, but she remained behind the couch. Her scent intensified with each startled heartbeat. I had to concentrate to ignore the fragrance filling the room and choke back the venom that filled my mouth.

"Edward?" Her voice was steady, but her heart continued to race. "Why are you here?" I knew she saw my intrusion as a threat. She'd proven that she would defend herself; I couldn't have her getting hurt trying to injure me. I needed to convince her I wasn't dangerous.

"I just want some information. I'm not here to hurt you." _Please believe me. _I held my hands up in the universal 'I'm innocent and my hands are empty' gesture. "If you'd just sit with me for a while, I'd appreciate it."

"Get out." Her eyes looked between the door and me. "I mean it. Being in the bar is one thing. Breaking in while I'm sleeping is another." Her eyes narrowed. "How did you get past the alarm, anyway?"

I ignored her question. "Please, Bella. You said before that you know who Carlisle is. If that's true, then you know he doesn't hurt people. I consider him my father, and he'd never approve of my scaring you, let alone hurting you. Please. I just want to talk."

"Humans have sons and daughters. Vampires don't breed. They form packs and prey on the weak," she said, unable or unwilling to keep the scorn out of her voice. "If you consider him a father, you have a screwed-up version of family."

It would have been easy to be offended. Bella was almost right; the majority of our kind were killers who worked alone or in pairs. Maybe she'd run into one of the rare groups of three, but if that were the case, I was surprised she'd gotten away alive. She obviously wasn't going to elaborate. I'd have to tread carefully.

"You're right. Carlisle and I are not related by blood, but we care for each other, and that makes us a family." I thought about it for a second and decided to take a chance. What did I have to lose? "He was with me that day in Alaska. You passed him in the hotel lobby. He'll be happy to know you're still alive."

Silence stretched between us, thick enough to touch.

She stared at me, as though weighing her options. For some reason, that look made me want to keep talking. It took all I had to stand straight and just look her in the eye.

When the steely expression returned, I knew she hadn't decided in my favor.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've asked you before, but you must have a hearing problem. Please leave." The surprise of waking and finding me in her office was wearing off. Her heartbeat was returning to normal, and I took that last "please" as a good sign.

"What if I promise to leave when we're done talking? As I said, all I want is some information. Then I'll go."

"God! Are you always this annoying and persistent?" She threw up her hands. "It's not like I can force you to leave. We both know that."

I smiled and nodded. She was stuck with me until I decided to leave.

With one more disdainful look, she muttered, "Fine, dammit. But whether or not I answer depends on what you ask." She crossed her arms over her chest, and it took all my willpower to keep looking into her eyes. I didn't want to get caught staring at her chest like some panting degenerate. Somehow sensing my concentration issue, she huffed and rolled her eyes. "Men are all the same …" she said softly.

"I'm only human, I guess," I said softly, smiling. "When I see something beautiful, I can't help looking."

"Smooth-talker, aren't we?" she asked, walking around the couch. Bella sat down, evidently deciding anyone who was tempted to ogle her breasts wasn't a true threat.

"I wouldn't know. Talking to women isn't something I practice," I admitted. _It wouldn't be so bad_, I thought, _to be smooth around her_.

She shook her head slowly.

"Edward, I still don't understand what you're doing here. I'm not interested in answering your questions. I'm only interested in you leaving me alone. My life becomes much more complicated when you're here."

"I'm sorry. I can't leave now. There's just too much I need to know." I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees, focusing on her. "How do you know Carlisle? Were you using an assumed name in Alaska in 1964? Why? What where you doing in the army?"

"I won't discuss Carlisle," she said flatly. "As for the rest, check my driver's license. I was born in 1987. There's no way I could have been in Alaska in the sixties. Did you have reality problems before your change, or was it something that happened during your transition?"

I ignored the jabs, wondering at the reasons she continued to deny what we both knew—what I'd heard her admit on the phone hours before.

"If you're done thinking that through, I'd like to know how you got in here. Did someone give you the building alarm code?"

"No. I'd tell you, but I think you'd rather not know."

"You're in my place after hours, stalking me while I sleep. I think the least you can do is give me the truth."

I knew telling her the truth was a mistake, but I did it anyway. "I never went home. I've been here the whole time."

She looked at the ceiling, bouncing her head repeatedly against the back of the couch.

The anger was back when she finally looked at me. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" I'd not heard that tone of voice from her before.

"If I swore to you that I didn't hear anything, we'd both know I was lying." I tried to give her a charming grin.

She brought both hands up, rubbing her face.

"Bella, I didn't mean—"

"Are you kidding me?" she yelled. "You have absolutely no manners! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, snuck into my office—wait! How did you get in here? There's a keypad on this door. Even if you hid in the bar, you shouldn't have been able to get in here."

I opened my mouth then closed it again, realizing too late that I should have seen this question coming.

"Answer me! I know that door was locked when I came in." She sat up, leaning around the end of the couch, inspecting the door. "It's not damaged. That means you got the code somehow. Who gave it to you? If I have a security issue, I need to take care of it."

I gaped at her for a moment, deciding that I might be able to turn this to my advantage. She was already angry. I might as well go with it.

"Tell you what. Let's work out a deal. I have information you want, and you have information I want. We'll take turns. You get a question, and then I get a question." I leaned back, faking a confidence I didn't feel.

"Gah! You're infuriating! Has anyone told you that?" She sat back, looking at me and making frustrated hand gestures. "You really won't leave, will you?"

"Nope. You're stuck with me."

"Fine, whatever! But when I say we're done, you leave. Got it?"

"Careful, Bella. You're going to make me think you don't want me around. You'll give me a complex."

I tried to give her one of those knowing smirks that Jasper was so good at, but I was afraid it came out kind of creepy.

"Well, get it over with," she muttered, crossing her legs.

"You were in Anchorage in 1964. How are you here, looking exactly the same?" It seemed best to just get it out there and ask what I wanted.

She looked up at the ceiling with a resigned expression before meeting my eyes. "Wow, Edward. I had no idea I looked so old. Wouldn't that make me seventy-something?"

"Why are you denying it? I heard you on the phone." This time I was the one talking with my hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about." From someone else, that look of pure innocence might be enough to make me question their sanity. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she was getting a small thrill from denying me what I wanted to know. "I think you misunderstood what you heard. Have you had your ears checked lately?" This time _she_ smiled, and it wasn't charming or creepy. It was self-satisfied.

I couldn't help it; I pointed at her. "You do realize that's another question, right? You didn't answer me."

"No, I didn't, because your question makes no sense," she said, picking nonchalantly at a thumbnail. "Ask me something else."

"That was a perfectly logical question," I protested, "and I'm still waiting for an answer."

"You could hold your breath while you wait. You'd finally be quiet, and I could go back to sleep."

When I finally comprehended her meaning, I started laughing. "You're making fun of me! No one outside my family has done that before."

"I'd never make fun of someone so annoying," she said with a straight face. "I really want to ask you about that door. You'd better come up with another question soon, or you'll forfeit your turn."

"There is no forfeiting. That wasn't part of the rules!"

"You didn't cover any rules, so I made them up for you. You really should be more thorough." She moved on to the pinky nail.

"You can't just make up your own rules and not tell me," I said, knowing that in spite of my protest, I was grinning like a fool. When she didn't respond, I huffed. As long as she was talking, it was progress. "Fine," I said instead. "Here's another question. Who were you talking to earlier?"

"Finally! A question that makes sense. That was Jacob. He owns the bar. He's my oldest friend, but I haven't seen him in a few weeks."

"You miss him. That wasn't a question—it was a statement," I clarified, holding up a finger.

"You're right. I do miss him."

I wanted to reply with something witty, but I felt like my well of words was empty. When I didn't respond, she started talking again.

"You got your question. It's my turn." She looked up at the ceiling before turning to me. "What special _talent_ did you use to get the door code?"

There was no way I could miss the word she emphasized. "How do you know about our talents?"

"Oh, no, you don't. Now you're the one answering a question with a question. Answer me first."

I thought it through for a second. What was the danger in confirming her suspicions? She already knew what we were, and she knew about Carlisle. It seemed silly to try to keep this from her as well.

"I can read thoughts. If someone is looking at something, I can see it and hear the running commentary in their head."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Just for clarification—and this does not count as another question—can you hear everyone? And what's the range on this gift?"

I smiled when she inserted the loophole and decided to indulge her. Usually, this was the question I'd come to dread. Fortunately, I had a different answer this time.

"No," I answered. "Not everyone. You appear to be the only exception. That's one of the reasons I knew it was you in Alaska. I couldn't read you then, either. I want to know more about you and more about why I can't hear you. You're unique."

"Evidently I'm not unique because _I wasn't there._ I must look like the someone who _was _there," she said stiffly.

I knew I'd pressed too hard. The game was over. The teasing, friendly atmosphere morphed into something tense, and I heard her heartbeat accelerate again.

Getting up to walk past me, she went to the desk. The space seemed to expand as she put the big piece of furniture between us. She sat in the desk chair and looked back up at me. "It's been fun, Edward, but you need to go now."

"So that's the way it's going to be? Anytime I insist about Alaska, you're going to freeze me out? Pardon the pun, but you're only adding to my curiosity."

"Life is full of disappointments. If you'll excuse me, I have an early delivery in the morning, and I'd like to get some rest. Since you are so good at using stolen codes, you can let yourself out."

"I don't think we need to end this so soon. For a few minutes, we were having a good time, or at least I know I was. If I promise not to bring up Anchorage again, can we keep talking? Things were just getting interesting."

"Why are you doing this? It doesn't make any sense." She stood and walked toward the door.

I guessed that she was going to hold it open for me. Not wanting to startle her, I made a point of getting up slowly and following.

"All I know is that there's something about you, and I want to know more. I don't think it's the mystery of not being able to hear your thoughts. It's you." I moved closer and expected her to back up against the wall, but she didn't; she held her ground.

"Don't do this, Edward. I can see where you're headed, and it's a very bad idea." Her lips parted, and I could see her chest rise with a deep inhale.

I lifted one hand and ran a finger gently down her cheek. A thick, slow jolt of heat ran from my normally cold finger. She must have felt it too, because her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her pupils dilated. Her skin was soft and smooth, warm and fragrant. With that single touch, I realized I was in too deep. There was no looking back, and there was no stopping it either. This was meant to happen.

I leaned down and watched her eyes close just before our lips touched. This gentle brushing was by far the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was completely absorbed by the sensation of her lips on mine. The enticing scent of her skin got stronger as her heart pounded. I moved closer, drawn to her warmth, and let my hands cup her face. The few occasions I'd kissed someone had been nothing like this. It was like comparing the pull of a magnet to the pull of the tides; I felt swept away.

She moved back. Whether she needed the support of the wall or was seeking some distance, I didn't know. My body followed her. Some part of my brain registered her hands at my shoulders. She may have been bracing herself or about to pull me closer. When I broke the kiss, I moved my lips along her jaw and down her neck. I felt her breathing begin to slow and her muscles stiffen. Our moment was over.

I pulled back, looking her in the eye. "I should apologize for that, but I'm not sorry." I smiled down at her. "Until tomorrow." I opened the door, walking through the empty bar and resetting the alarm on the way out.

* * *

_Thanks again to everyone who took a minute to review. I love hearing what you think._


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm sorry for the delay in updating. Real life and all that. As always, this was never mine._

_A huge thanks to TwilightMomofTwo! She makes this much better and gently reminds me not take it all so seriously._

_PTB is awesome, and so is _EdwardsMate4ever.

* * *

I didn't return to the house immediately after leaving Bella. I wasn't interested in subjecting myself to questions from my siblings before I'd had time to think things through. There was too much to consider before I could talk to anyone. First and foremost, I was trying to figure out what had possessed me to kiss her.

I was no closer to discovering the truth, and I was more confused than before. I was still wrapped up in my own thoughts when I heard Emmett coming through the woods.

_Alice told me where you'd be,_ he thought. _She also said you wanted to be alone. _ He smiled as he walked over and sat down. Emmett and I had been here before; this was the boulder I usually chose when I wanted to think.

"I don't think I'm up for talking right now." I pondered different ways of telling him to go away. It really wouldn't have mattered what I said, though. Emmett had come to give me brotherly advice; he wasn't going to leave until I heard him out. _Great. Something else to look forward to._

"It was strange watching Alice last night," he said. I could see his memories of her. After my siblings got home, she wandered through the house, randomly picking items up and putting them back, unable to settle down. "I thought not being able to see what would happen would make her angry, but she just seemed … I don't know … excited somehow."

It was redundant, having him say things I'd already heard in his thoughts, but he'd always been more comfortable with what he called 'regular conversations.' It was just part of his extroverted personality. When he went through something verbally, it helped his brain process the thought.

When I didn't answer, he kept going. "I was pretty happy that she was out of the loop for once. I think it's about time some things in our family stay a mystery." One by one, he picked up several small rocks and sent them sailing out over the hillside. When my silence was too much for him to take, he blurted out, "Did you get to talk to Bella? We want to know how it went."

It didn't escape me that he'd used the plural. I picked a rock and imitated his throw. Mine went higher but fell short of his distance, and I let out a little snort. I was so distracted that I couldn't even throw well. "Yes, we talked, but it didn't go the way I'd expected. I didn't find out what I wanted to know."

"Why not? You couldn't sweet-talk it out of her?" He looked over at me for a second before using his nail to chip off a bigger rock. He was trying to read my reactions, find some hint about what had happened.

I didn't look over at him, nor did I answer. I just kept throwing rocks because I couldn't think of the right thing to say. Should I tell him about the kiss? I'd kissed a few women before, but no one had never affected me like that—like I wanted to sink into her and never leave.

"Man, I saw the way you were looking at her. Don't get me wrong, she's good-looking, if you like that tough-chick thing—which I totally get, by the way. You didn't come home, and I think that means there was contact between the two of you. What I don't understand is why you're here sulking. I mean, there's a lady out there who makes you finally realize you're a man. She knows what you are and still has the balls to tell you where to go." He leaned over and slammed his shoulder into mine. "I'd say you're a match made in heaven."

"Emmett, you don't know what you're talking about. This is a whole lot more complex than meeting someone and deciding we hit it off."

"Well, did you talk to her?" he asked, as though I were slow. He saw himself as the wiser, more-experienced brother giving sage advice.

I was trying not to see him as a meddling annoyance.

In response, I let the silence drag. Why couldn't he see how confusing the whole thing was for me? It would be easier if I could find a book, a reference of some kind, that would tell me how to deal with it. How could I explain to him that my awkwardness around her bothered me, and that, for the first time, I was actually a little jealous of him?

I understood how these things worked. I knew women found me attractive. In the past, when women flirted with me, they were either so subtle that I didn't pick up on their signals, or they were so aggressive that I was repulsed. My sole attempt at a romantic relationship had been a disaster. Tanya was far more interested in me than I was in her, and I'd quickly realized I should never have agreed to seeing her. I'd done my best to let the whole thing decay on its own without having to actively break it off. It wasn't that I didn't like her; I just never missed her when she was gone.

"Yes, I saw Bella," I said, realizing he was going to let me wallow in my thoughts until he got a response.

"Well, how did it go?"

He kept pitching rocks into the distance as hypothetical images of the two of us flashed through his head: Bella and I with our heads together in conversation, Bella yelling and showing me the door, Bella trying to slap me after a kiss. I inhaled quickly as I watched myself sweep Bella off her feet and take her slowly on our table in the VIP section. Throughout this mental slide show, Emmett was grinning, but at least he had the courtesy to not look directly at me.

"It went well, or as well as could be expected, I guess." I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice neutral.

"That's a good start. Did she enjoy talking to you, or did she try to take your head off?"

"Well … I think she liked it. I managed to get her to talk for a while." I hated how I sounded. I didn't even have to read Emmett to know I came across as tentative and unsure.

"It's a lot harder to talk to someone when you have no idea what they're thinking, isn't it?" He was remembering all the women who had flirted with me over the years. I watched my utter obliviousness of their advances or my understanding followed by horror and subsequent rejection.

"You don't sound very sure of where you stand, but that's pretty normal. Welcome to how the rest of us begin relationships." He threw one last rock and rubbed his hands on his jeans. "So … why are you still here, looking like you're feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Oh, well, let's see," I said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice while I ticked topics off on my fingers. "She's human or, at least, she shows all the signs of being human. She died in Alaska, and she won't tell me how that's possible. She knows about our family and what we are. And to top it off, she keeps telling me she wants nothing to do with us. Every one of those should be a deal-breaker. Piling them all up should mean _stay the hell away_." I sighed as my irritation drained away. "Maybe you should take your matchmaking skills and pep-talk somewhere else." I was tuning him out, trying not to wallow in self-pity when he started talking again.

"Okay," he said, drawing the word out slowly. "You're right about all of that. What I'm saying is—so what? Every member of this family is a freak of nature, some of us more than others," he said, pointing at my head. "Somehow, we're still here. More importantly, we've found each other, and we're happy. What does your gut tell you about her? Because I think it's telling you she's important."

Through his eyes, I saw my head whip around and my mouth open and close, unable to form a coherent response.

"Come on. What's life without a little challenge? You're either going to work it out with her, or you won't. Figure out if she's your mate, or let her go. But sitting here being emo won't get you any further in either direction."

I just stared at him for a moment or two. I heard this thoughts a split second before he spoke them.

"So, dear brother, the question is—what do you want? If you want to let it go, let's move on. You can forget about her, and we'll find some new place to have fun. If you want her, what the hell are you doing out here practicing your pitching? And you still suck, you know."

Again, I stared at Emmett like a dog trying to understand a Renoir. He started to laugh and leaned over, bumping me again. "You can thank me later. Let's go find something to eat." He took off in the direction of the river, and I had to scramble to catch up.

We hunted for a while, chasing each other. The exercise cleared my head. By the time we got home, I knew there was no decision to make. I needed to know what was going on with Bella, and I was willing to do the work to see what was between us. With renewed determination, I showered quickly and went back downstairs.

I spent the rest of the day on internet searches, hoping to find something useful.

The public information on the bar was easy to find and straightforward. Thanks to the great American bureaucracy and a bit of hacking skill, I could see the business and liquor license documents. The transfer of ownership to Jacob Black had been a few years ago.

The online history for Bella didn't tell me much. A newspaper article reported her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was eighteen. The police report listed their occupations as police officer and homemaker. Bella had graduated from a large high school in Phoenix, and her college and work history were average with no outstanding achievements. If I were looking to build a generic false identity, it's exactly what I would have picked.

"Jasper, can you help me with this?" I asked. Like the rest of the family, he'd been keeping his distance. I could sense the rest of them nearby, wanting to give me space, but close enough to keep up with what I was doing. "It's like I'm unraveling a sweater. I keep pulling on threads, but I never get to the end. All I get are more holes."

_It's curious, all right_, he thought, scrolling through the computer screens. _It's a little too tidy. _

"I'm going to do searches on the bar employees, then on the earthquake. Maybe there's something I missed … " I stopped talking, afraid I was rambling. "Can you start an in-depth search on the bar owner? I'd bet the house that Jacob Black's history is just as tidy."

Jasper ended up finding a history almost identical to Bella's. Jacob Black had graduated from the biggest high school in Austin, and his parents died in a botched robbery while he was in college. He dropped out to start working after their deaths.

"They both used large cities with big high schools and public universities. If someone asked questions later, it would be very possible no one would remember them. Plus, accidents made them each orphans as young adults. It's just a little too much of a coincidence, don't you think?"

_I agree. I'll pull up the list of bar staff and start working through them_, he thought.

He settled down across from me, and I relaxed. I didn't have to work on this alone, and I was grateful for the help.

It didn't escape my notice that everyone else was obviously absent. Alice's sewing machine would start and stop, Rose's magazine pages would flip, and CNN droned on from the living room. My family was letting me work this out on my own and waiting until I asked for help. Well, except for Emmett, who'd decided to butt in this morning.

Three hours later, we had almost no new information. A news article from the earthquake listed Private Charles as being killed in the basement of the book store on Fourth Ave. There were no surviving pictures of Private Charles, other than the one printed in the paper. It was fuzzy, and we couldn't distinguish anything other than the fact that she was a thin brunette with pale skin. If there were pictures in her service record, we couldn't get to them.

"Everyone working at the bar is exactly what they appear to be," Jasper said, distracted enough to forget he didn't have to speak aloud.

He was deep in thought, trying to find a pattern we'd missed.

"We're hitting dead ends. Maybe we should chat with Austin again," I said.

_Maybe_, Jasper thought. _But you need to know, before you got home this morning, Rose said that if she were Bella, she wouldn't speak to you with the group of us around. She said it would be too intimidating. I'm inclined to agree_.

As much as I didn't want to, I could see Rose's point. The last thing I wanted was for Bella to feel ambushed. "She's right. I'll keep you all in the loop, but I should see her alone."

_Go do what you need to do, but remember, we're here if you need us. _

Later that evening, I was back at the bar, sitting alone in the VIP section. Being Sunday, it was less hectic than the night before. Tonight was a slightly younger crowd, mostly students from the local college, so the VIP area belonged to me and a few businessmen looking for the professionals. The majority of the action seemed to be on the dance floor and at the main-floor bar.

By now, the bartenders and waitstaff knew me by name, and they were friendly enough, but they didn't stop to chat the way Austin did. I knew they instinctively felt I was dangerous and shied away. I'm still not sure why some people don't feel that fear. Austin was an example of someone who seemed to feel it less.

I was pretending to drink my scotch when Bella spotted me. It may be a cliche, but I could feel her eyes on me. She paused halfway up the stairs with one leg up, and the position pulled her jeans tight. For just a second, I indulged myself, mentally tracing the edge of those jeans and imagining what they covered. I shook my head and reminded myself to be a gentleman. When I looked up, I could see her watching me with a 'you're busted' expression. There was no way I was apologizing for appreciating her beauty. Instead, I lifted my glass to her in a mock salute and pretended to drink. _I can do this_, I thought, trying to psych myself up with confidence I didn't fully feel.

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't we settle this last night?" she whispered. "You're wasting perfectly good alcohol, and your acting isn't that good." Anyone watching her would think she was just muttering to herself.

I looked at her and held my hand up to my ear in the universal 'what did you say?' gesture.

"Knock that off. We both know know you can hear me. Or maybe you should ask that doctor you live with to give you a checkup?" she taunted as she walked over.

"My hearing is just fine, thanks for your concern. As for my trip back to your fine establishment, I have an overactive imagination, and since you won't answer my most important question, I decided to come back in person and see if I could persuade you to talk to me some more." The words came out too fast, and I worried that I was babbling.

Her eyes narrowed. "Just so we're clear. Your methods of persuasion won't work on me."

For an instant, my brain flashed on our kiss, the scent and warmth of her skin. I told myself to calm down and bring my thoughts back under control. "I haven't turned on the charm yet," I said, letting the timbre of my voice drop, but I couldn't say it with a straight face. As soon as I began to laugh, she rolled her eyes and smiled. Her smile was wonderful.

Once again, I realized I was in way over my head.

"Well, other than your unsolved mystery, what brings you back tonight? Where's your entourage?"

"They wanted to give me a chance to dazzle you on my own. Besides, it's tough to sweet-talk someone into revealing every detail about themselves if there's an audience."

She shook her head and ran a hand over her head, smoothing her already tidy ponytail. "Everything, huh? Someone is pretty confident."

I couldn't believe she was playing along with my attempts at flirting. I gave Emmett an imaginary fist bump. "You have no idea," I boasted.

Bella's earpiece beeped; she tilted her head, listening. A fight had started downstairs. Austin had broken it up, but one of the victims was slightly injured.

Reaching over, she picked up my drink and sniffed it, rotating the glass. Bella watched the swirling liquid for a moment before setting it back down. When she looked back at me, I could tell her mood had changed.

"At least you have good taste," she muttered.

With Austin's interruption, the atmosphere had gone from teasing to melancholy. I sighed when she started talking again, because I knew what the topic would be.

"Edward, I know you don't understand why I've asked you to go, but I have very logical reasons. Just because I can't share those reasons with you, doesn't make them any less real. You seem nice enough. Who knows, if things were different … in another time and place … "

"We both know I'm not going away," I said. "We've started something here. I'm not leaving, at least not yet."

"This isn't a game. Do you understand what you're doing could have consequences?" She looked to the ceiling while shaking her head. Seeming to give up on me, she walked away.

I was still pondering Bella's words as I watched her join Austin, keeping the injured man company while they waited for the authorities. She didn't look my way for the rest of the night.

Just after last call, the VIP bartender and one of the waitresses headed into a private bathroom. I used the opportunity to head down the hall and enter the security code for Bella's office, chuckling low when the code still worked.

Just like the night before, the room was clean and uncluttered. I walked around for a few minutes before settling onto the couch. I'd have to pick her up some books and knick knacks. There was absolutely nothing to read or to look at. It was a good thing I'd learned to entertain myself decades ago.

It was after four in the morning before she walked in. "Honey, I'm home," she called sarcastically from the doorway. "I'd hoped if I stalled long enough, you'd get bored and leave." When she spotted me on the couch, she rolled her eyes. "When I didn't see you go out the front, I figured you'd be in here. It doesn't seem to matter that you're not invited." Bella crossed the room and sat down in the chair behind the desk. She leaned her elbows on the smooth desktop and interlaced her fingers; it almost looked like she was praying.

"You missed me. Admit it." I smiled at her. The only light in the room came from the computer monitors. I could see her clearly in the dim light, but I wondered how much of my expression she could see.

"Can you explain something to me?" she asked, then continued before I had a chance to reply. "What do you see as the end here? I've explained that I can't answer your questions. I'm not even technically your species, but you keep showing up. What is it you think you're going to get from me?" She never moved during this speech, just stared as though I was the one withholding information from her. For just an instant, I felt like a criminal being interrogated. I half expected her to turn the desk lamp toward my face and start firing off questions.

I took a deep breath, getting ready to bare my soul. Emmett had said that life needed a challenge, and I was about to step up.

"Would you believe me if I told you I have no plan? That I'm here because I want to see you? You're beautiful and smart and kind, but you'd never want anyone to think so. And if you're who I think you are, you're also selfless and brave."

And then I saw it, the tiniest of cracks in her fierce, self-protective facade. Maybe it was the fatigue. It wasn't that her expression changed; it was something in her eyes. Somehow, she knew I was serious, and it was changing her perspective. Neither of us spoke. I wanted to give her time to process my words. My frustration at not being able to hear her roared to life again, but I forced myself to settle down and wait.

She got up and opened her mouth to speak but closed it before making a sound. Waving her hand in a 'I can't deal with this right now' motion, Bella went into the adjoining bathroom. The idea that I was intruding on her privacy didn't bother me as much tonight. She obviously knew I could hear everything she did. When the door opened, she was in a pair of loose, faded jeans and a dark T-shirt.

She pulled on a worn, too-large hoodie and a pair of tennis shoes. "The bar is closed for the next two days. I'm going home now. You let yourself out before, so you can do it again. I'd tell you not to come back, but I'd be wasting my breath. So … to use a popular bar cliche, 'you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.'" She slung a duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbed her keys.

"You're going home now?" Maybe she hadn't thought this through. She shouldn't be wandering the pre-dawn streets alone.

"Yes," she replied as though I was slow on the uptake. "It's been a long night, and I'm tired."

There were circles under her eyes, and I wondered how much of the fatigue and stress was my fault. Guilt rushed over me. She'd seemed so tough, and I'd barreled forward, not thinking I might be pressing her too hard for what I wanted to know.

"I'll walk you home." A part of me liked the idea of guiding her through the city. The streets would be almost empty, and we could keep talking.

"Edward," she said slowly, "this isn't high school. I'm a grown woman capable of taking care of myself! I did it for a long time before you got here, and I'll continue to do it after you're gone."

"I'm more than happy to walk you," I said, hoping I was persuasive. "I heard you tell Jacob that you didn't want to walk alone with vampires around. What better protection than having one of them escort you?" I wanted to grin at that, but somehow managed to keep a straight face.

"You're kidding me, right? You're the one I thought I might need protection from!"

"You've made it clear that you've met vampires before. You never know when one of the bad guys might be around. I do believe a bodyguard is in order."

Dammit, I was doing it again! Somehow, just being around her turned me into some sort of ingratiating, semi-smarmy sweet-talker. _What the hell is happening to me?_

"All right. Fine." She walked to the door, and held it open for me. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that, right?" she asked as we left the office, and she shut the door behind us. We left the bar, setting the alarm and checking all the doors. When we got onto the street, she pulled her hood up and shoved her hands in her pockets.

The streets were practically deserted, just as I expected. This part of the city was not safe for a woman alone. Without thinking about it, I maneuvered myself so that she was on the inside of the sidewalk, away from the street. Alice had mentioned this habit before, thinking my mother had probably taught me to walk near the curb, protecting ladies I was escorting from being splashed by carriages. Maybe Alice was right, and even if the memories of my mother had faded, her lessons lived on.

As we started walking, Bella yawned widely. "I guess we could talk to pass the time. You called Carlisle your father. How long have you known him?"

I was stunned by the topic change and thrilled that she was showing some interest in my family. "Carlisle changed me in 1918. We've been together on-and-off ever since."

"Together?" she asked turning toward me with a smirk, putting emphasis on each syllable. Bella slowed down and walked behind me long enough to put herself back on the street side, then caught up to me. When she looked forward again, her face was obscured. It occurred to me that with the hood up and the oversized, baggy clothes, it was difficult to tell she was female. To passersby, we probably looked like two young men coming home from a night of carousing.

It took a moment for me to realize what she was asking. "_No!" _ I was amused and horrified that she'd even asked for the clarification. "I consider Carlisle my father. What you're implying would be out of the question. He found his mate many years ago. They've been my parents ever since."

"He took a mate?" Bella sounded surprised. There was a long pause before she asked, "When did they meet?"

"Carlisle turned Esme in 1921, not long after he turned me. They're deeply in love, and it makes me happy to know they've found each other. I didn't realize it until recently, but I'd like to find that kind of relationship as well." I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, feeling every bit of the crushing high-school boy that she accused me of being. I started to switch our position again, when she put her hand on my arm to stop me. This modern woman must like walking on the street side for some reason.

"Carlisle waited a very long time for her," she said, looking around us, seeming to take in everything. "How long was it just the three of you?"

I froze for an instant, but managed to catch myself before she noticed. How could she possibly have known that Carlisle had been alone for the majority of his existence? He'd only told his story to a few select people, keeping the details of his life and lifestyle choices to those he trusted most.

If I questioned her on this slip, she would shut down again. I'd chip away at the foundation of trust I was working so hard to build. Deciding to file away this detail for later, I answered her question and let the conversation flow.

"Until 1933. That's when he changed my sister Rosalie. Two year later, Rose brought her husband Emmett to us, and Alice and Jasper joined us in 1950. When we're together, we're three happy couples and me." I hoped the bitterness didn't come through. I didn't begrudge my family their happiness. I was just tired of being the odd-man-out.

"Your relationship with Rosalie is tense." She looked over at me. "Your voice changed when you mentioned her.

"Carlisle changed her with the hopes that we would be together. It was a recipe for awkwardness, whether we found other partners or not." But even as I said it, I thought maybe that wasn't true. Maybe Rose and I could work on a better relationship. It was the first time I'd considered that things could be different. Either way, it wasn't something I could fix immediately, and I'd rather keep spending time with Bella. I was almost hoping her apartment was further away. "Is there anything else you'd like to know?" I asked softly.

She looked down at her hands. "You said before that you think I'm kind. Why would you say that?"

"I watched you with Emily on the dance floor. She was scared that she hadn't been able to defend herself. You took time to show her that with the right training, she didn't have to be a victim. If you could have heard her thoughts, you would know she was encouraged enough to go find some self-defense classes. You helped change how she thought about herself. To me, that's a kindness."

"Maybe I just want her to take care of herself." Bella raised her chin. "Weakness makes her a target, and when she's in the club, that's more work for me."

"So you're telling me it was all for your benefit?" I laughed softly. "Sorry. You're not that good of a liar."

"Believe what you want," she mumbled, hiking her bag higher on her shoulder.

We walked in silence for several minutes, and the neighborhoods kept getting worse and worse. When we reached a block full of red-brick tenements, she stopped. "I'm on the next block. I can make it from here." In apartments all around us, people were yelling and babies were crying. Nearby, a drug deal was going down just before the dealer closed up for the day. The block held a few mom-and-pop shops with security gates up over the windows. There was no way she should live here. Bella took one look at my face and started to laugh.

"I'm not leaving you here," I said. My disapproval must have been written all over my face.

She smiled. "That's kind of funny. It's like you think you have a choice about it. Whether you approve or not, this is where we part ways. So skedaddle on home." She made a shooing motion.

I set my jaw and stared down at her.

Her eyes flashed and I saw the flare of temper before her mouth opened. "Don't you even think about it! You may know where I work, but I'm allowed some privacy. I'm not going to open my door and wonder if I'll find you standing outside, because, knowing you, that's what will happen. I've asked you to go home." She took a deep breath, and it looked like she shrunk a little bit as her temper eased. "Can you please do that?"

I nodded, turning and walking away, tracing my steps back the way we came. When I heard her footsteps turn the corner, I slipped into the first alley I saw. Suddenly anxious now that she was out of my sight, I scaled the fire escape, running across the rooftops until I could look down and verify she was still safe.

She hadn't lied, her building was on the next block. She put her key in the front door of a building that appeared to be the best of a bad lot before she disappeared inside. Wishing I could still see her, I heard her climb two flights of stairs, open several door locks, and turn off a security system that sounded suspiciously similar to the one at the bar.

What kind of security system would she install in a building like this? Why not just move to a better neighborhood? Was money an issue? I would happily help her with that. All of this made no sense.

Once she was inside, the locks clicked again, and the alarm made the chirping sound I now knew meant that it was armed. Only then did I feel my shoulders relax a bit. She was safe. When she spoke, I realized that my pretense of walking away and abiding by her wishes was wasted. She'd known all along that I wouldn't be able to leave her there not knowing if she was safe.

"Good night, Edward. Go home."

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

_You guys have made me so happy with your enthusiastic, thoughtful responses. I'm in awe. _

_TwilightMomofTwo continues to be awesome. I'm pretty sure it's her permanent state. _

_I'm grateful for the generous people who share their time at PTB. 2Shaes and darcysmom helped make this better._

_This was never mine, but I'm having a great time playing in the sandbox. _

* * *

I found myself in town several times over the next day, scouring the block to trace her scent and find her in the minds of the residents. I told myself it was just to verify that she was safe, but part of me knew I was crossing the line from _concerned_ to _stalker_. As much as I wanted to see Bella, I couldn't keep pushing myself on her. If all I could do was watch over her, it would have to be enough, at least for now.

Between trips into town, I tried to keep researching. Tried being the operative term as I bounced from subject to subject, avoiding my ever-observant family. The longer I went without concrete information about Bella, the more concerned Jasper became. In the absence of other information, he was no longer sure she was harmless. He wouldn't keep giving her the benefit of the doubt, and I didn't want to think about what would happen if he pressed the matter with the rest of the family. It was beginning to look like a no-win situation. Without information from her, I couldn't prove she wasn't a threat, and I couldn't force her to trust me. My thoughts kept going around and around.

Eventually, I gave up and went for another hunt, heading deep into the woods. The rain matched my mood, and I allowed myself some time to wallow in self-pity before heading home, braced for a potentially difficult discussion. Carlisle and Esme were waiting when I got back.

"Edward, the rest of the family gave us an account of your weekend, and I think there are some things we need to discuss," he said. His expression was calm, but he was full of questions. While Esme was concerned that I'd become infatuated too quickly, she was also thrilled with my interest in Bella. On rare occasions, when my permanent fifth-wheel status made me melancholy, and I'd hear her worries that I'd been turned too young, with the early change making me asexual and destined for a life without a mate.

I nodded, following them into Carlisle's office. He sat behind the desk, with Esme and me sitting across from him. I always found this room soothing. The only thing that ever made me uncomfortable was the painting of Carlisle's time with the Volturi. I'd asked once why he kept it. He'd replied that it was important to remember; he'd once been alone in the world and kept company with lost souls. He wanted the reminder of the choices he'd made, of how far he'd come, and that he did not have to return to that life.

"Jasper tells me you believe you've found the girl who died in Alaska." When he said it aloud, I had to admit it sounded a little crazy, but Carlisle was considering the possibility. "He also tells us you've been able to find out very little about her. He's beginning to consider her a potential threat. Do you agree?"

"No!" Realizing I was too emphatic, I forced myself to take a deep breath and began again. "I've had more contact with her than anyone else. I firmly believe she's harmless." Outside, my siblings were thinking about our interactions with Bella. Although my parents and I were the only ones in the office, the whole family was a part of this conversation. As everyone listened, I went through each detail of the last three days. The only thing I left out was the kiss, still feeling that I needed to protect it somehow. "That's everything I know," I said, feeling like a witness on the stand. "I find it hard to believe that anyone who wants nothing more than our absence is a threat."

Carlisle stared at me impassively, deciding he needed more information.

"If we proceed believing she's human, is there a possibility that this woman is the granddaughter of Private Charles? We never found much of her history. She could have had a child we didn't know about."

"That's happened before, Carlisle. We've met the children and grandchildren of people we've known. This is different. It's not a relative—it's her. I'd bet my life on it. I just can't figure out how it happened."

"Please explain." It was one of the things I loved about having a conversation with Carlisle. He was willing to consider any possibility. His brain built off ideas, testing each one, and using it to support his theory. There were times I'd seen him put together processes and see connections other people had missed. It was part of what made him an outstanding physician.

"I remember every part of that day clearly. I'd know her anywhere."

"I believe you," Esme said softly. It was the first time she'd spoken since we sat down. "She obviously struck a chord with you, and you've remembered it all these years."

"Sweetheart, this isn't renewing an old acquaintance," Carlisle interrupted. "This is almost half a century, and there is no logical explanation for the fact that the same girl would still be alive."

"I can't explain it," she said. "I believe what my intuition is telling me. Edward is right."

This was why they complemented each other so well; when his brain was dealing with facts and assembling the big picture, her heart was guiding her. They were a formidable team.

At that moment, I adored Esme. Her blind faith made me feel unworthy. I hoped she knew how much I appreciated her trust.

"Leaving aside the Anchorage issue, Jasper is concerned because she has information about me," Carlisle said.

This was harder to explain. "The conversations we've had … she's made it clear that she knows who you are, and she doesn't want to see you. She also made a comment yesterday, implying she knows you're significantly older than the rest of us. I haven't been able to get more details."

"That seems a bit odd, doesn't it? It's not as though we pose a threat to her." He sat back and rotated a pen as he thought. He was cataloging everyone we'd met since the earthquake, both humans and vampires, looking for a potential connection.

"Agreed. I'm walking a fine line, trying to be assertive about spending time with her but not pressing too hard. The more I'm around her, the more she trusts me." I thought back to the first conversation in her office and how much I had enjoyed sparring with her.

Esme gave me a sly smile. _I've seen that mischievous look on your face before. You're enjoying this little dance you're doing with her. Don't even try to pretend. I know you too well._

I tilted my head to the side, conceding the point. I was having a wonderful time getting to know Bella. It was the most alive I'd felt in years.

Carlisle's pen continued to twirl. "Is there anything else you can remember that might be helpful? Any other conversations?"

"I've told you all I know, but I'm going back to the bar later tonight."

Esme smiled and looked down as hope flared through her. Visions of a complete family celebrating Norman Rockwell holidays danced through her head.

It made no sense, but Esme's optimism dampened my mood. Perhaps it was because I knew how far we were from making her visions reality. Daydreams were nice, but at this point, they were all I had.

For the first couple of hours, I wondered why the bar even opened on Wednesday. There was almost no traffic, and the staff spent part of the night cleaning and doing inventory while they chatted.

Even though I should be working to keep a low profile, I sat in the VIP section again. I also knew it was wrong to bond with Bella's employees, further insinuating myself into her life, but I enjoyed being near her far too much to let any opportunity pass.

It was surprising how much I enjoyed getting to know the staff at Skin and Bones. They worked hard, and, for the most part, they were good people. It had not gone unnoticed that I was now a fixture in the VIP section. Tonight, they had time to satisfy their curiosity about me. One of the waitresses gathered her courage and approached. We made small talk, but her motive was to make sure I was good enough for her boss. Her loyalty to Bella was admirable. My first inclination was to discuss the growing compatibility between Bella and myself and list my qualifications as a potential mate, but I knew that wasn't the correct approach. I did my best to emulate Emmett's charm. Maybe I'd learned more from my brother than I thought because I was surprised by how well it went. She walked away approving of me and even came to visit again later. As though we were old friends, she sat next to me and pointed when a dark-eyed beauty showed up at Sinjan's end of the bar. We watched as he stammered, dropping glasses, intimidated by her attention. Sitting with this new friend, like a comrade-in-arms, felt like an initiation. I was pleased I'd passed this test.

When I finally saw Bella, she looked better than the last time I'd seen her. Even from across the room, I could see the dark circles under her eyes were gone, and she seemed more relaxed. She gave a half-smile when she spotted me. Each time she glanced my way, her cheeks would flush. I wished she'd stop working and come talk to me, but I could be patient.

I heard Denise's chaotic thoughts before I spotted her. Jimmy had spent two nights in jail, but he'd called crying and begging. She'd used the two weeks wages Bella had advanced her to bail him out of jail. Instead of spending those two weeks relaxing and healing, Denise was back to work, cursing herself for being too trusting—again. As she walked past me without speaking, I could hear her worry about whether she'd done a good job covering the black eye. I pondered the idea of my brothers and I meeting Jimmy in a dark alley and decided the idea had some merit.

Before the bar closed, I sneaked down the hall I'd come to know so well. When Bella finally opened the office door, she found me sitting behind the desk, watching what little activity there was on the computer monitors.

"I need to change these locks. The scariest things keep showing up in here." She leaned back against the door, crossing her arms over her chest.

I smiled, liking that she was comfortable enough to be sarcastic with me, wishing I had a witty response. Too often I felt tongue-tied around her. Instead, I said what I was thinking when she walked in. "Did you know you can see every inch of the bar from these?" I turned back to the monitors and pointed to the rotating camera views. "I didn't pay enough attention before to notice how much they covered."

"Of course I do. I helped design the system," she said, pushing off the door and moving toward me. "Actually, they don't cover the restrooms or the shower areas in the employee locker rooms. Otherwise, we should be able to see every square foot."

"What do you mean you helped design it? You mean you ordered it?" I clarified.

She leaned against the side of the desk, looking indignant. "No. I worked with the vendor to design the system. Jake and I knew what we wanted, and no one had it available off the shelf, so I helped make it happen."

It seemed like a huge undertaking. "I'm impressed." That meant she probably also designed the alarm I'd heard at her apartment. If it had become a hobby of sorts, it made more sense that she'd installed one there. I thought about bringing it up but decided to keep the mood light. "How long did it take?" I asked instead.

"Longer than I wanted. There was a lot to learn."

I swiveled the chair to face her. "You never cease to surprise me."

She shook her head. "I don't know why. You can't read my mind, so everything I do should be a surprise, right?"

"I suppose so," I said. "I wasn't much of a surprise though, was I? You knew I was waiting here."

"I did, and I put off coming back." She paused before looking into my eyes. "Edward, I'm not sure how to react to all this." She waved her hand in a sweeping motion. "I keep thinking I'll come up with some way to explain the situation to you, and you'll finally understand, but I can't. I'm out of ideas except for yelling, 'There's nothing to see here—move on.'"

She was talking too fast as though she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying. I hoped she could see things from my perspective.

"In my defense, you've not really explained anything. All you've done is told me to go away. The minute you made yourself off-limits, I was so intensely curious I couldn't stand it, and with every conversation, I ended up wanting to know more about you." The words came out smoother than I thought. Maybe I wasn't so tongue-tied, after all.

"There is no way this will end well for either of us. Why is that so hard for you to see?" She was whispering by the time she was done. The resignation on her face broke my heart.

I stood and closed the distance, taking her hands in mine. I ignored the jolt of energy from touching her. Right now, I needed her attention. "I've never met anyone who spouted so much nonsense. It wouldn't matter what you told me. The only place I want to be is here."

"You're only saying that because I represent a challenge," she whispered, but I didn't think either of us believed it. Her fingers slipped between mine; their heat radiated through me. I shifted just enough so our hands could clasp. She looked down as though they were foreign objects.

I stepped forward, and she moved back, keeping our hands between us. One more step and her back bumped against the office wall. This seemed very familiar. The surprise of it brought her head up, and she looked into my eyes. Her pupils dilated, and I could hear her heart racing. I wasn't sure how this had happened. I hadn't planned on kissing her again.

I let go of her hands and caressed her arms, bracing myself on the wall above her head. I leaned in but was careful to keep a few inches between our bodies. Everything in me wanted to press forward, merging us from hip to chest, but I managed to hold on to that thin sliver of control. A kiss was too enticing, though, and I couldn't resist. I looked from her eyes to her mouth. When her tongue brushed across her full bottom lip, it was an invitation. As I dropped my mouth to hers, all I could think of was closing the distance between us.

Her lips were soft and warm, and they opened quickly, but I was careful not to let my tongue enter. _Careful of the venom,_ some rational part of my brain insisted.

"We need to stop," she said softly as her head turned and lifted, giving me access to kiss a trail across her jaw line.

"I'll stop when I'm done." Although I heard the words, I was amazed by them. I'd never felt this possessive before. The touch and feel of her were the center of my awareness, and I wasn't letting anyone come between us. I continued kissing along her neck and paused momentarily with my lips against her jugular, feeling the tantalizing throb beneath my lips. A quick thrust with my teeth was all it would take.

Bella made no noise, freezing in place, every muscle tensing.

She didn't exhale until I'd moved up to the fragrant area behind her ear.

"You're so lovely," I whispered, inhaling her scent. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you all those years ago."

She cursed softly which was followed by something unintelligible.

I was light headed with the taste and smell of her. Something in the back of my head told me I should stop, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I stepped closer, pressing her into the wall and twining a hand in her hair. With what sounded like a moan of defeat, she seemed to melt into me. I made a soft trail of touches across her collarbone.

I startled myself with the sound that escaped when I touched her breast for the first time. The soft warmth radiating through her T-shirt was better than any daydream, and I imagined spreading kisses all over her warm skin. Her hips moved slightly, and her breath hitched. Inhaling, I detected a new scent rising between us. There was no way to describe it, but my overstimulated brain registered it as pure Bella. I groaned, deep and low in my throat.

That seemed to rouse her from the stupor. "Wait!" She tossed her head back and forth, breaking our connection. "That should not have happened," she said, shoving at me.

I took a deep breath and stepped back. I started to inhale, and her scent almost brought me to my knees. I held my breath. It was the only way I was getting through this.

Bella brought her hands up to her forehead. "That should not have happened," she repeated. "Dammit!" She started pacing, shoving her hair back. Although I watched her, she wouldn't look at me.

I needed to calm her down. She was too upset, and I didn't want her ending our night so soon. I decided to go with a self-deprecating approach, hoping it would distract her. "Hey! I know I'm not all suave and experienced, but you're beginning to dent my ego here."

"Your ego has nothing to do with this. I can't get involved with you—certainly not like that." She looked at me, tilting her head as though she'd just caught my words. "Not experienced? Don't fish for compliments. You were doing just fine." She flopped down on the couch.

"Whether you believe it or not, it's true. When I was growing up, there were things men and women didn't do until they got to know each other very well. I tried before, but … I didn't feel anything. At least not the way I feel when I'm with you." I was trying very hard not to sound like a lovesick teen, and I heard myself talking too fast. "When Carlisle changed me, the newborn years were a difficult transition, and then he found Esme. When he changed Rosalie, intending her as my mate—"

"You know you dodged a bullet on that one, right?" she interrupted. "No offense intended, but I think she'd have eaten you alive. I'm surprised Carlisle couldn't see it. You make him sound like he's intelligent."

I tried not to be offended on my father's behalf. "He's very intelligent. I think it was more a matter of being happy in his own relationship and wanting the same for me. I'm glad Rose and I didn't work out. Emmett makes her very happy."

"If you say so," she said, obviously unconvinced.

She remained on the sofa, and while her position wasn't exactly curled in on itself, it wasn't welcoming. As much as I wanted to pull her to me, it seemed smarter to keep the conversation going. Anything to stay with her a bit longer.

"What do you do when you're not here?" I blurted, thinking back to the last two days, of the hours searching for something to fill my time.

"What do you mean?" she asked, clearly confused by the topic change.

"Do you have hobbies, friends, activities?" I watched her puzzled expression and hoped I wasn't right about her lack of social life outside of the bar. "Well, where were you yesterday, for example?"

"What I usually do on my days off. I went to an exercise class, then I went home to read," she said, sounding confused by the question. "Why? Where were you?"

"I went for several runs. It's something I enjoy." No reason to tell her _where_ I ran. "I also went hunting. It's best if we're well-fed before we spend too much time with humans."

"Does that help? I'd been told …"

Bella rarely seemed at a loss for words, and I waited for her to continue.

Blowing out a breath, she seemed to make up her mind. Speaking quickly, she said, "I was told feeding from animals makes you weak, and no matter what you did, you still wanted to feed from humans. You're the first vamp I've met who followed Carlisle's lifestyle. I was just wondering if that's true."

I wanted to know where she got this information, but if I pressed too hard, she'd retreat again. I felt like I was coaxing a skittish horse to trust me.

"I'm not sure who told you that, and I won't lie to you. It's not easy to live the way we do, and we've had accidents in the past. But we do the best we can every day." It was whitewashing our lifestyle, but it was as close as I wanted to get.

"Why do you do it—go against your nature?"

"We believe human life is precious. We try to remember what it was like to be human. There are so many gifts and opportunities that come along with humanity. For example, I'd miss things like this. I'd miss meeting you … getting to know you." I really wanted to lean closer and wrap myself around her. I thought she might have felt that, because her heart sped up for a second, before she narrowed her eyes.

"Edward Cullen, I have worked in bars for many years, and that certainly sounded like a line."

I started sputtering, protesting that it wasn't true when she began to laugh.

"You're teasing me again!" I said, covering my wounded heart with my hand.

"You have to admit, you make it way too easy."

I smiled back at her, loving this lighthearted exchange. It was exactly what I'd hoped for. Taking a chance, I started in on another round of questions.

"What do you read on your days off?"

"Almost anything. Mysteries, but they need to be well-written. Historical accounts and biographies would probably be next on my list."

I was intrigued by even this tiny detail and happy to finally be getting something out of her that wasn't just a reminder that I should leave. "Okay. What makes a mystery well-written? I'm dying to know."

"Haven't you read any?" She turned to face me.

"Yes, I've read many over the years. I'm just trying to understand what you enjoy." God, I sounded sappy. I wanted to thump myself on the forehead.

"All right. How about what I don't like? I think it's a cop-out when the author doesn't introduce the killer until the last few chapters of the book. I don't like that the majority of main characters in mystery novels are now either a chef or a cop with a drinking problem. Should I go on?"

I shook my head. "No, that's enough. What about classics? You can't be upset with the classics."

"It depends on the classic. Some are wonderful and deserve all the praise they get. For some, I'll never understand the hype."

"Okay, give me an example of each. One wonderful and one not so wonderful."

"Persuasion," she said quickly. "It's the best Austen there is."

"I worried about Wentworth for a while, but it all worked out in the end," I said, trying to impress her with my knowledge, but what I got was a smirk. Instantly, I realized I'd given away too much. "What?" I protested. "I live with women who don't sleep. Books are a good way to pass the time."

"Yep. I'm sure they held a gun to your head to get you to read it."

She laughed, and I didn't mind that it was at my expense.

"A gun wouldn't help," I muttered before raising my voice back to normal volume. "Back to the classics. What didn't you like?"

"Wuthering Heights. I know some people love it, but I've never seen the charm in a book where people are so awful to each other."

I could see that. It was a discussion I'd heard more than once over the years. "I understand."

"What about you?" she asked. "Is literature your thing?"

"I do read, but music is what I enjoy. We have a piano I move from house to house."

"What? Why not just buy one for each house?"

"I like that one. It's my favorite."

She laughed, throwing her hands up in the air, obviously not understanding. "How often do you end up having to move it?"

"It depends. If we're in a big city, it's easier to blend." I picked at a speck of dust on my jeans. I didn't like where this conversation was going. If she noticed my discomfort, she didn't let it show.

"Do you pick somewhere new every time, or is there a rotation?"

"We have a few houses that we shift between. It's easier than starting over every time, learning new places." I could have filled an entire night telling her how tired I was of moving, how I'd love to put down roots and stay somewhere for a while.

"Huh. And you always move together, posing as a family?"

Was she intentionally misunderstanding our prior conversation? I tried not to be annoyed. "Bella, I know we talked about this once, but we're not posing as anything. We are a family. We may not be related by blood, but my siblings and I love each other, and we love our parents. Without their support, I wouldn't be the person I am today, and I'd never be able to live up to the ideals I'd set for myself." _Dang, I might as well stand up waving a flag for The Cullens. _

"It must be nice. It gets tough when Jake's gone."

She sounded so sad that I grasped her hand. I'd done it without thinking and hoped she took it as a gesture of understanding.

Her eyes went wide with what was probably surprise. I felt a sting when she pulled away, tucking the hand into her lap as though it needed to be contained.

I wanted to ask why, but my frustration was building, and I didn't want her to see that I was finally reaching the end of my patience. Maybe she'd never allow a bridge between us. This distance had nothing to do with whatever secret she was keeping; it had more to do with the fact that she would never let me in, never trust me. As quickly as it rose, my anger died. As infatuated as I'd become with her, we were still essentially strangers. There was no reason for her to trust me. So there I sat, on the couch I'd begun to hate, staring at the floor, wishing things could be different.

I was so caught up in my own little breakdown that I hadn't noticed her looking at me out of the corner of her eye. It was a look that said she was sizing me up and weighing the options. She huffed out a breath and seemed to make up her mind. From the look on her face, she was as surprised as I was when she placed her hand back in mine and began to speak.

"Edward, I'm not going to lie, sometimes, you annoy the hell out of me. When you get stuck on something, you're like a dog with a bone and you won't leave it alone. You have no idea how many times I wished I had the ability to shove you out the door." She blew out a breath, looking at the ceiling before looking at me again. "But you're also kind and funny in a weird sort of way, and although I shouldn't like you—I do. Please understand when I'm not as ... ready as you are for all this." She huffed out a breath and squared her shoulders as though that speech had settled her mind.

I was still sitting there, stunned when she got up and walked into the bathroom. Just like the other nights, I listened to the sounds of her nighttime routine. As I heard her walk closer to the door, I had an inspiration. Moving swiftly, I spread myself out on the couch, spreading the blanket so it would be ready to cover her.

I held my breath when she emerged from the bathroom and stopped short. I moved over as far as I could and pointed at the spot in front of me.

She looked from the spot I indicated to my face and back again with one eyebrow raised.

"You're right. Too soon," I said to myself, deciding to get up, but stopping when she moved closer. I was mentally cheering as she stood over me, looking down.

"I'm going to regret this …" She flipped the blanket back, settling in front of me. "No funny business," she said sternly. "I'm going to sleep, and you're going to lie still."

I nodded. "Don't worry. Lying still is something I can do."

"Don't read too much into this, all right? I know I should send you home, but it's been a long time since I've slept alongside anyone."

"What about Jacob?" I asked, knowing it was a question I should have asked long ago, but until this point, I had been afraid to pose.

She made a disgruntled sound. "Jacob is practically my brother."

"I have to say I'm glad to hear that."

"Cool your jets. We're just sharing a couch, Edward," she said, yawning.

"Sleep, Bella," I murmured softly into her ear. I was on my side, trying to give her room. I hoped she wouldn't be too cold and tucked the blanket between us.

As she slept, Bella moved closer to me, and I had no qualms about pulling her forward, closing the gap. The next hour was one of the best of my very long life, with her resting peacefully against my chest. Each one of those minutes she slept, I enjoyed a contentment that I'd only imagined before.

I should have woken Bella the minute I heard the thoughts below. Not wanting to spoil the moment, I listened as Jimmy and another man worked on the back door lock. Jimmy's thoughts were a jumbled, drugged-up mess, and it was almost impossible to follow his stream of consciousness. The patterns were so random that it took a few minutes to decipher what he was planning. The other man was only slightly less affected and had been lured by Jimmy with the promise of quick cash. Silently, I willed them to go away and not disturb my perfect evening, but when I heard the metallic snap of the lock, I knew the spell was broken.

Sighing, I pulled myself up to my elbow and looked down into Bella's lovely face. I intended to go downstairs and deal with the situation myself, but as soon as I started to rise, she was instantly awake, launching to her feet. Her heart was pounding.

"What's going on?" She scanned the room, quickly taking in her surroundings.

"Jimmy is back, and he brought a friend. They broke in, looking for cash."

"Dammit," she said, going to the desk and typing furiously on the keyboard. One-by-one security camera images blanked out. Eventually, only one camera view remained, and it was focused directly on our unwanted visitors. "He should still be in jail."

"Denise took him back. He cried and apologized, promising it won't ever happen again." I couldn't keep the distaste out of my voice. "She's already sporting bruises."

Bella gave a heavy sigh. "I'll call her in tomorrow to fire her. I tried to help, but she keeps making her own life worse." She strode into the tiny bathroom and rummaging sounds followed. "Now, I just need to get rid of these morons and make sure I don't kill Jimmy in the process, even though I want to. God, I'm sick of this guy." She came out in jeans, pulling her hair back with some quick, twisting motion.

After pulling her boots on, Bella went to the desk. With several fast motions triggering hidden latches, a small drawer popped open from the bottom right side. The wooden box I'd seen before appeared. When she unlocked it, a semiautomatic sat waiting. An unusual weapon was on the other side of the box, but I didn't get a chance to study it before she hastily put it away. Sliding her thumb over a latch on the side of the grip, I watched in wide-eyed horror as she ejected the magazine, verified it was full, and snapped it back into place.

_I just thought we would talk to them._

Then I realized which pronoun I'd used. I was thinking 'we'. Bella had been saying 'I'. It was time to set her straight.

"Bella, you're not going down there with that." Whether she liked it or not, there was no way she was putting herself in danger with two drugged-up thugs.

"Of course I am. This isn't the first time I've had to deal with junkies looking for cash. It'll be fine. Just stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can." She took a step toward me, and for an odd second, I got the impression she was going to give me a kiss goodbye. She seemed to think better of it, nodded, and moved to the door.

"Stop right there! One of us is bulletproof, and it's not you," I said, moving faster than she could see, blocking the door. "Give me the gun." I held out my hand, spreading myself across the door frame, making it very clear she wasn't moving me. "I'll go down and take care of it."

"Take care of it how, exactly?" she asked, keeping the gun safely pointed at the floor, motioning toward the bar with her other hand. "You going to drain them? Show them some of your extraordinary vampire powers? No, we both know you're not allowed to do that. So what then, Edward? How exactly are you going to scare them away without either killing them or giving away what you are?"

"It won't matter what I do. It's not like anyone is going to believe them. They're high as kites."

"If you scare them but don't kill them, and even one person believes the story, you run the risk of bringing the Volturi here. I won't take that chance! Do you understand me?" Her eyes were fierce, and her heart was pounding.

I felt my body go still as my mind retreated.

What had she said?

"Edward, stay with me!" She snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. "I need you here. No statue impersonations."

My eyes focused on her fingers, then moved to her face, concentrating on her expression. I needed as much information as possible about what she'd said. "Bella, we've never discussed the Volturi. How do you know that name?"

She closed her eyes for a second, and when she started talking again, she seemed resigned. "Edward, can I please just go take care of this? You want answers, fine, I'll tell you the whole story," she said, cocking the gun stock back, making sure there was a bullet in the chamber. The metallic snap echoed over the sound of her heartbeat.

"When this is over, I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

* * *

_It's an evil cliffhanger, and I hope you can forgive me. _

_I always love hearing from you! (Even if you're throwing rotten tomatoes at me for ending it there :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_I absolutely loved the reviews from last chapter! You guys always make me smile! Huge thanks to SusanQ who rec'd this on The Lemonade Stand and to Nauticalmass and Sarge's Girls for their kind words. Please let me know if there is anyone I missed. Real life is crazy right now, and I want to express my gratitude properly._

_TwilightMomofTwo makes me a better writer. I'm so happy to have found her._

_PTB is a great organization. Special thanks to JulieToo and bigblueboat. I can never leave well-enough alone and tweaked a bit after they sent it back. Please forgive any errors I may have added._

_Deep breath. Here we go. As always, SM owns this all._

* * *

"I promise. I'll answer all your questions, but right now you need to move."

Bella tucked the gun into the waistband at the back of her jeans. The motion was far too smooth, and I couldn't help but wonder how many times she'd done that before.

She motioned toward the door I was blocking, making it clear I was in her way. I wanted to lock her up, to shake her, to drag her somewhere safe. It would be easy for me to take care of the degenerates alone, but I knew from the obstinate expression that she wasn't backing down.

Meanwhile, Jimmy and his friend Dave roamed freely below. While we negotiated, our opportunity to take control of this situation was closing. I weighed potential options that included calling my family for help, tying Bella up to keep her in this room, calling the police … None of those ideas would eliminate the threat quickly _and _allow me to keep my fragile relationship with Bella intact.

"Fine," I said, frustrated that I couldn't come up with an alternative, but I wasn't giving in without concessions. "Here are the terms. We're going downstairs together. You will not put yourself in danger, and I will accompany you at all times! If at any point I tell you to leave, you return to this room. Is that understood?" I hoped I was sufficiently stern. "When we get back, you will answer _all_ the questions you've been evading." I made a point of leaning back against the door and crossing my arms. There was no way I was moving while I still had the upper hand.

"Not asking for much, are you?" She looked me up and down, seeming to weigh my resolve.

I didn't respond. She'd already called me a statue once tonight. I knew I could stand here unmoving for days, and she knew it too. From below, I heard Jimmy planning to kick in the store room door. I could use that to my advantage; I wasn't proud. "You should make a decision, Bella. The longer you wait, the worse this is going to get. They're going from room to room looking for your office."

My prediction was followed by an echoing crash, and I saw her jaw tighten. We just stared at each other, neither backing down. During the silence, I started counting. Her heart beat six times before she whispered furiously.

"Okay! Dammit! I agree! You can come with me. Will you just move already?"

I wanted to smirk at winning this battle of wills, but there was too much at stake. I could gloat later, preferably after she'd finished her story.

There was one more thing we needed to hash out before she got past me. As I stepped away from the door, I took hold of her arm. "Don't you think you should call the police?"

She glanced down at my grip as though surprised, but she didn't pull away. "If everything goes well, I won't need to call."

"And if it doesn't?" Another crash rang out. I couldn't have timed that better if I'd tried.

Bella winced. "I have people I can call."

People. I was surprised to hear the plural. "You mean you're bribing more than one cop?" It hadn't occurred to me she might have multiple _business associates_. My displeasure must have been obvious.

"Come on, Edward, this isn't the time to give me a lecture on being a responsible corporate citizen. I've had bad experiences with cops in the past. Especially when Jake's gone. You don't always get taken seriously as a young woman working alone. That's why I've built a network of contacts. As long as someone comes when I call, that's what's important. Let's go!"

I would have preferred she call now, but I could also see the benefits of waiting. We might be able to work this out quickly. "Fine," I said, sounding no happier than when I'd said it before. "Come on." I let go of her arm and took her hand. "We can scare them off, and when we return, you're finally going to start talking."

She huffed out a breath before nodding her agreement. Only then did I open the door. Bella scowled as I gently pulled her behind me. I led, with both of us crouching while we moved down the hall. Taking a position behind the VIP drink station, we'd have a high-level view of the bar below.

From their thoughts, I knew Jimmy and Dave hadn't gotten much farther than the store room. They believed the bar was empty, so they had all night to party and trash the place while they found the money. The second crash we'd heard was a case of bottles being thrown. Perhaps I should have felt guilty for misleading Bella into believing they were close to us, but it had been necessary to reinforce my point.

She looked through the empty main bar and dance floor, unable to pinpoint their location. I nudged her elbow, pointing at the light coming from the storeroom.

When she started to stand, I pulled her back down. They were coming out, and we were in the best position to observe and determine a potential weakness.

Filthy curses and mutterings about finally "sticking it to the bitch" preceded our first look at the unwanted visitors. Jimmy immediately sauntered behind the bar, filled with the rush of going somewhere normally forbidden to him. He bent down and rummaged through the shelves behind the bar. With a cry of triumph, he spotted a small electrical box and flipped one of the switches. A few colored lights came to life above him. Once he could easily see what he was doing, Jimmy began scanning the shelves, shoving bottles aside, laughing when some fell to the floor. When he finally saw what he wanted, he grabbed the first glasses he could find and filled them, over-pouring, spilling it across the bar.

With a high-pitched giggle worthy of a teenage girl, Dave grabbed a glass. They made a mockery of a toast, slamming the glasses together and sloshing tequila onto themselves.

After downing his glass and refilling it, Jimmy cocked his arm back and heaved the bottle toward the dance floor. It arched high and came down through the hanging lights. Dozens of tiny glass spheres shattered on impact. Without their globes, the bare electrical cords swayed like angry snakes. In the light from the bar, the dance floor shimmered as though covered in ice.

Bella fought my hold, struggling to stand. I gripped her harder, afraid I was leaving bruises, but needing her to be silent for a few more seconds.

Jimmy's thoughts were changing, and I wouldn't be able to control the situation until I figured out what was going on. As the concentration of alcohol in his blood rose, it combined with the illicit drugs. What had begun as a simple robbery was morphing to some sort of crusade. His anger at Denise, at Bella, and at all the imagined slights throughout his life were combining in his twisted perceptions. He wanted someone to blame.

This was no longer a simple robbery. Again, I weighed my options, but short of dragging Bella back to her office and tying her down, I didn't see how to stop it. The best option seemed to be getting it over quickly, before the situation got worse.

I let go of Bella's hand, pointing at the stairs. She nodded, and we moved out from behind our shelter, keeping low until we reached the stairs. As soon as we started to descend, Bella stood tall, shoulders thrown back, and eyes narrowed. She looked very much like someone who'd come to squash the cockroaches invading her home.

I knew the minute Jimmy noticed us; I felt him attempting to concentrate. His brain reminded me of a child on a merry go round. It felt very much like being on a spinning ride. I wondered how he managed to stay upright. The anger and chemicals running through his bloodstream were overriding higher brain function.

Dave sat off to the side with his eyes half-closed, cradling his empty glass. Jimmy had promised him money, and he was having trouble figuring out why they weren't searching for the cash. He wasn't forceful enough to start asking questions, so he waited. At this point, he seemed like the lesser threat.

"It's good to see you again, Jimmy, but you and your friend need to go." Bella stopped at the base of the stairs, moving over just enough to allow me to stand next to her. "I already called the cops," she lied. "You've only got a few minutes to get out of here before they haul you away. You'll hear the sirens any minute now."

I barely registered the waves of anger and fear that came from the men; I was concentrating on controlling the white-hot rush that roared through me. By lying about calling the police, Bella had just started a countdown. People make stupid, reckless choices when they think they're out of time. When drugs and alcohol are added into the mix, anything could happen.

Arrogantly, I'd come downstairs believing that with my gift, I'd be able to control the situation; I hadn't considered the fact that Bella was an unknown variable. If I could have read her, I'd have known about the bluff she was trying to play. Realizing how badly I'd misjudged the situation, I felt blind and on the edge of fear. In spite of listening to Jasper's military lessons all these years, I still hadn't learned enough. Evidently, monitoring the state of the enemy was useless if I had no idea what was going on within my own army.

When neither man responded immediately, Bella started again. "I'm warning you in time to get away. I don't want Denise to have to bail you out of jail again."

When she mentioned jail, panic ran through Dave. Images of unwanted attention from cellmates went through his head, and I was repulsed by the way he'd been treated. Memories of sweaty bodies and fetid breath rolled over him, and he made a small moaning sound. He stumbled to his feet. "I won't go back to jail, Jimmy. We gotta go."

Jimmy ignored him completely, focusing only on Bella. "Annnddd there she is. The bitch who dislocated my shoulder and tossed me in jail. I told 'em about the whores you got turning tricks upstairs, but they told me to shut up. I guess all the cops get their blow jobs here." Jimmy flashed back to his arrest. He'd been spilling his guts about everything that happened at Skin and Bones until one burly detective slammed his face into the tabletop and told him to shut up. His nose had bled for the better part of an hour.

With a flourish, he pulled a revolver out of the front of his pants and set it on the bar, making sure it pointed directly at Bella. I tried to ignore the phallic symbolism while Jimmy unconsciously thrust his hips in her direction.

I growled at him. The low noise startled everyone, including me.

Bella inhaled quickly, giving me a sideways glance. "Relax," she said through gritted teeth.

Once I was under control, she started talking again.

"I clean this mess up, and I won't press charges, but you need leave right now." Bella used a firm, calm tone, taking a few steps forward.

She wasn't going any farther alone. I strode ahead, placing myself partially in front of her.

Dave edged slowly back toward the storeroom, intending to go out the way he'd come in. He froze and whined like a frightened dog when Jimmy started screaming.

"Don't order me around! You bitches are all alike. Somebody needs to show you who's boss." He started walking around the bar, intending to show Bella that he was in control, but he moved too quickly. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he stumbled. When he regained his footing, he started for her again.

Bella shoved at my shoulder, trying to move me. I briefly imagined covering her mouth when she started talking again, but I knew that would be the end of our relationship.

"How's that shoulder, Jimmy? I don't want to dislocate it again. You better get going. You're running out of time." Bella obviously wasn't threatened by the stoner who could barely walk.

"You gonna rough me up like before?" Jimmy slurred his words and spittle shot onto the bar. "That how you get off? Can't get a man between your legs, so fucking me over rocks your world?"

I growled again and took several steps forward. So much for letting her handle this. "You will watch your language. She may be willing to let you go home unscathed, but I might not be so generous."

Jimmy looked me up and down. He saw a young man who probably had to use a fake I.D. to get into the bar. With my pale skin and lack of bodybuilder physique, he instantly discounted me. Although rationally I knew violence wasn't the answer, I hoped he would attack, so I could finish this farce.

Somewhere in the back of my head, Carlisle's voice reminded me that it was my responsibility take the higher road—I instantly dismissed it. There were times for the higher road; this wasn't one of them.

I understood now what Jasper meant when he said he'd kill for Alice. I'd happily rip apart these dregs of society to keep Bella safe.

Dismissing me, Jimmy looked back at Bella. "What do you say, Butch? How about we spend some _quality time_ together before we get the cash?" Jimmy swayed a bit before starting to taunt her again. "Yeah, I like the idea of that. It'll be like you paying me to work you over. Whatcha say?"

"You're not getting any cash. We've been more than fair to you, and I doubt Denise has any more money to bail you out. You'll stay inside this time. Maybe you'll make a new boyfriend?"

At Bella's taunt, Dave made a shrieking sound and covered his ears. Another set of flashbacks rippled through his head.

I had been getting ready to launch myself at Jimmy when I realized both Bella and I had misjudged the dangerous one in this situation.

"Jimmy, you said the bitch had money, but you didn't say nothing about going back to jail. I don't want trouble." Dave had risen, holding a small caliber handgun in a shaky grip. He looked from Jimmy to Bella and back again. "Jimmy, make her give you the money. I wanna go home."

A jolt of fear shot through the synthetic high controlling Jimmy's brain. With a sinking feeling, I realized he didn't know Dave very well. We now had a loose cannon buzzed out of his mind, scared of going back to prison and waving a gun. I needed to back up in a way that wouldn't startle Dave. To place myself between Bella's fragile body and that gun.

"Hey. I don't think we've met. I'm Bella," she said, holding her arms up.

I ached to see her raise her hands as though she were being robbed.

"I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" Her voice was back to soothing calm, sounding as though she were speaking to a child.

"I'm Dave," he said, his voice high-pitched and squeaky. "Jimmy said you have money. Where is it? Judy'll meet me if I have cash."

"Hi, Dave. I can take you to the money," Bella said, nodding slowly. "Who's Judy?" She continued to talk, but was stepping slowly to the side. I'm not sure what she was planning, but I wasn't about to let her get any closer to the gun.

"Judy's my friend. I pay her, and she makes me feel good." Through Jimmy's fuzzy memories, I could see Judy dealing him drugs. When he brought her cash, she treated him like a son. When he came up short, she had someone smack him around.

"Geez, dude. Put that thing away," Jimmy said, trying to sound annoyed. He wanted to be back in control.

"No. Judy said people would listen to me when I got out this gun," Dave said, looking from Jimmy to Bella, holding it up again like he was showing off a new toy.

"I like your friend, Jimmy," Bella said quietly, lowering her hands to her sides. "Where'd you meet?"

He snorted. "He's a friend of a friend." That translated to_ this guy owes my dealer money. I was supposed to bring him along for an extra pair of hands_. With every revelation, this situation was worse. There was no loyalty between these two. Fear and adrenaline were sobering Jimmy up quickly, and I hoped that would make the situation better. He knew that if they both owed the dealer money, they would be seen as disposable—sacrificed to teach other clients a lesson.

Everyone was quiet for several seconds, and the tension was too much for Jimmy. He snatched his gun up from the bar top and held it firmly in a hand that barely shook, aiming directly for Dave's head.

"Dammit, Dave, just put that gun away," he yelled. "I can handle this. And you're not going back to jail. I promise. I want this bitch to pay for the shit she put me though, but I'm not going down for murder. You got me? Just sit your ass down and wait. You'll have your money soon."

Seeing Jimmy like this explained some things. When he was motivated, he was very persuasive. It was no wonder Denise had been in over her head with him. With that order, Dave sat like a dog, perching himself on a table at the edge of the dance floor. He kept his grip on the gun, setting his hands in his lap.

With a motion worthy of an action movie, Jimmy turned back to Bella, aiming the gun directly at her head.

In his imagination, I could see the vision of her face shattering with the impact of the bullet. All her honesty, bravery, kindness, and sarcasm disappearing in milliseconds

I started forward. He would not get an opportunity to hurt her.

Jimmy motioned for me to stop, giving me a feral smile. "Denise said the safe would be in the upstairs office. Take me there."

Bella seemed to weight her options and finally nodded. "Okay. Let's go. I'll take you."

"No!" I said, looking back at her over my shoulder. "We had a bargain, Bella. Where you go, I go."

"Okay. We'll all go, then."

She didn't exactly look defeated, and I thought she might have something up her sleeve. That was the last thing we needed. I hoped she'd finally come to her senses and was going to pay them off.

Everything went to hell when Jimmy started walking out from behind the bar. The bottles he'd tossed made the floor a sea of jagged glass. A shard went through one of his cheap, worn sneakers, cutting his foot. He cried out, lowering the gun down and limping to the electrical box. "Need more fucking light. I'm bleeding like a stuck pig here." Within seconds every light above the dance floor started to pulse. The remaining multicolored bulbs flashed to an unseen beat.

Dave's already dilated pupils rebelled at the sudden brightness. He screamed in fear and surprise.

The distraction was just what Bella needed. Drawing the semi-automatic from the back of her jeans, she yelled for me to get out of the way—I was blocking her shot to Jimmy.

Realizing his mistake, Jimmy scrambled to bring the gun back up, aiming in our direction.

From the dance floor, I heard Dave yell. "It's too bright! Make it stop!" With the gun still in his grip, he covered his eyes with the back of his hands.

I couldn't focus on that now. If Jimmy wanted to get to Bella, he'd have to go through me. I launched myself across the space, diving over the bar, pulling the gun from his hand as I dropped him to the floor. His eyes rolled back up into his head.

When the shot rang out, I instantly knew my mistake.

I heard Dave's gun fire just before I heard two horrible noises. The first was Dave's shriek as the powder seared his eyes and burned his face. The second was the wet, tearing sound of a bullet going through flesh.

Practically flying back to Bella, I cursed myself. If I hadn't gone after Jimmy, I'd have been close enough to be in front of her. I could have prevented it. This was my fault.

I gasped as I reached Bella. She'd been moved back several feet by the force of the blast. The shirt above her left breast was beginning to bloom red. It showed as a spreading wet darkness across her shirt. Her eyes were open, and she looked at me as I knelt.

"I wanted you to stay upstairs, remember?" she chided before giving a short wet-sounding cough.

Without thinking, I began to evaluate the wound. My medical training had me channeling Carlisle as I took in the full extent of her injury. With every detail I noted, my heart fell a little more.

"Oh, God, Bella. There's so much blood. Even if I call an ambulance—" I gathered her against my chest, rocking back and forth. Somehow, it was happening again. She was dying in front of me _again_.

This time, I wouldn't have to worry about witnesses.

She didn't have to die.

"You know what I am," I murmured softly into her ear, brushing the hair away from her face. "Let me change you." I could hear every rattling intake of breath. "A few days of misery and we can be together. We can start over."

"No. I don't want you to—" but her answer was broken by more coughing. A blood bubble emerged on her exhale, and I wiped it away gently. Any hunger I might have felt was long gone in the wake of frustration and sorrow.

"Bella, please. You don't have to die this way. It's wrong. It's too soon. _Say yes_." I'm not above begging. "Please."

"No," her whisper is almost silent, and I have to lean over her to make out the sound. Warm blood was making a puddle under her, and it soaked into the knees of my jeans. The scent of it filled the room, seeming to cover everything.

I'd just found her—this woman who could be everything I'd never known I wanted. Was fate this horrible, that she would take Bella away from me now?

I didn't have to let her go.

But could I do what I was considering? I'd seen the toll this life has taken on Rosalie. Could I condemn someone else to a life they don't want just because_ I_ don't want to let them go?

To perform the most selfish act of my life, I bent over her reverently. Tilting her head to one side, I lowered my mouth to her neck, inhaling deeply. When I'd done this before, it was out of passion. Now it was out of grief.

I'd have to marshal all my self control to not remove what little blood remained in her system.

"Don't." The whisper came from below me, and a weak hand pushed against my chest.

It was much too simple. I moved my head forward far enough to sink my teeth into her soft, paling flesh. I took two long pulls from her neck, closing my eyes at the unexplainable taste. The rapid thumping of her heart brought me out of my ecstatic stupor, and I pulled back, licking my lips. I was ashamed of the satisfied moan I couldn't stop.

Moving quickly, I went to her ankles, ripping the boot laces to get at the pulse points. I expected to finish her wrists quickly, but the pain had already started. She was writhing, moving her hands up to her neck in an attempt to make the burning stop.

I grasped each wrist in turn and pierced the skin, taking almost no blood. At this point, I had no idea how much she'd lost and how much I'd consumed. I couldn't risk drinking any more. I sat back on my heels wondering if there was more I could do to ease the horrible transition I'd forced upon her.

_God forgive me, _I prayed.

_Would Bella forgive me?_

She began screaming. I hated to leave her for even a second, but it couldn't be helped. I raced up the stairs and kicked down the door to the office. Knowing she'd been sleeping peacefully under that blanket less than an hour ago was too much to consider. I grabbed it and leaped over the balcony, landing at her side almost instantaneously. Spreading the soft fleece next to her, I placed her in the center as gently as I could while she continued to thrash. Wrapping her tightly, I left her side just long enough to take care of the worst of the details.

Dave had been curled in a fetal position on the dance floor, cradling his burning eyes. Grabbing him by the hair, I dragged him across the floor, tossing him behind the bar with the still unconscious Jimmy. He screamed like a girl the entire way. I pondered killing him but decided against it, simply because I needed to get back to Bella. Dave scrambled back as far as he could in the small space. He folded his legs against his chest, rubbing his sightless eyes on his knees. He made wounded whimpering noises. "Don't you fucking move! And if he wakes up, you make him stay even if you have to shoot him! Do you understand me!" I growled, knowing my voice had descended into something not human. "I'm sending someone for you. You wait until they arrive. If you try to run, I will find you, and I WILL kill you."

Once I'd confirmed the neighborhood was empty, I gathered Bella up as gently as possible and ran to the car. It took more coordination than I'd expected to hold her while I fished out my keys, opened the door and placed her on the back seat. She must have been aware enough to know we were in public because her screams were muffled through a tightly clenched jaw.

Through this all, her eyes never opened. Perhaps she couldn't stand the sight of a creature who would do this to her even after she'd refused.

I put the car in drive and tore away from Skin and Bones, heading for home and help.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! I'm always happy to hear what you think._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks so much for the overwhelming response to the last chapter! I loved hearing your theories, thoughts, and opinions._

_TwilightMomofTwo continues to inspire and guide me. Thanks bebe! You went above and beyond on this one._

_PTB is a wonderfully efficient group of volunteers who make fanfic better. I'm grateful to Jcat5507 and kitchmill for the assistance._

_As always, it's not mine._

* * *

I sped through deserted pre-dawn streets. It didn't matter how fast I drove, I couldn't get away from the horror of the last hour. Bella's screams had finally stopped echoing through the car. I could only imagine that she'd given up fighting the burning; she was letting it consume her. I was hyper-aware of every sound from the back seat, spending more time monitoring her than looking at the road. Each low moan and ragged breath seared itself into my memory. She'd curled into a tight, fetal ball, clasping her hands together as though in prayer. I wanted to pull over, to hold her and comfort her, but I knew every stop only delayed reaching Carlisle and the help my family could provide. I gripped the wheel too hard, leaving impressions in the molded plastic. If I were human, I'd be sweating through my clothes. No drive had ever seemed so long.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, verifying it still functioned. The screen was a spider web of cracks, probably from when I'd landed behind the bar. I breathed a sigh of relief when Carlisle answered my call, but I didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Carlisle, I'm bringing Bella to the house. She's in the middle of the change, and I need your help."

I wasn't sure what kind of response I expected. As he had so many times since the day he took me in, Carlisle knew exactly what I needed, even when I didn't. He didn't ask questions. He didn't want details.

"We'll be waiting," was all he said.

"I know everyone is already listening, but can you put Jasper or Emmett on?" I think my voice was shaking.

There was rustling while he handed the phone off. Esme was asking questions in the background, her calm, sweet voice a balm to my frayed nerves.

"Hey, bro," Emmett said. "I'm glad to hear Bella's joining the family. You sure worked fast on that one."

In spite of everything, I laughed. If he only knew how thoroughly I'd screwed up. Actually, when I was done asking for this favor, he'd know precisely how bad things were.

"Well, I'm not sure this is exactly what you had in mind." I gave him an abridged story of what had happened that evening. Again, I didn't even have to ask for help. My family gave it willingly.

"We're on it. No worries. Jasper's already making a list of what we'll need, and Rose wants to help with the clean up. We've got you, man."

I thanked him, giving him the alarm code for when they were finished. I couldn't begin thinking about how tonight would have been different if we'd set that alarm before Bella fell asleep. Could all of this have been avoided? It was another bad decision I'd have to live with.

I started to speak again, but stopped, knowing they could hear the catch in my voice. I was impressed Rosalie had agreed to help me. Perhaps she felt guilty for not wanting to spend time at the bar and keeping the rest of the family away. Fleetingly, I wondered if I should be concerned for Dave's or Jimmy's safety, but I honestly didn't care. How ironic was that? All my lofty ideals about the sanctity of human life went out the window as soon as Bella was hurt.

Her moans slowed, and then stopped. I wondered if she was concentrating on her breathing, trying to control the pain. I almost drove off the road when her heart skipped a beat.

I don't remember that being normal at the start of the process. Heartbeats changed much later, when the transition was almost complete. Maybe it depended on their physical condition when the venom was introduced.

_Carlisle will know. He'll be able to help._

Forcing the worries back, I tried to concentrate on getting her home.

Now that we were away from the immediate danger, my guilt rolled in like waves. When this was over, I wasn't sure Bella and I would have a relationship to salvage. How could she love someone who would do this against her will?

I needed focus on the task at hand. Wallowing would do me no good, and my only concern should be getting Bella home.

The controlled breathing continued from the backseat for the rest of the trip. A few jarring potholes caused muffled groans, but otherwise there was no change in her condition. Her heartbeat remained even, thankfully. That couldn't be bad, right? I'd never admit it to my family, but I was terrified that, somehow, I'd screwed this up, too.

Thankfully, the house came into sight quickly. I'd covered a lot of ground while I mentally beat myself up. Alice, Esme and Carlisle were waiting for us in the driveway.

Carlisle had the door open and was examining Bella as soon as the car stopped. Her movements had loosened the blanket, and he pushed it away as he checked the wound. I got out to watch as he checked her vitals and talked to her softly, seeing if he could elicit a response.

Bella opened her eyes briefly, and I got the impression it was more of a dismissal than an acknowledgment. She blinked once before retreating back into herself. The internal focus was probably her way of coping with the pain.

Gathering her close, I got us inside and climbed the stairs to my room. Carlisle pulled the couch away from the wall, giving himself room to work. I set Bella down, kneeling beside her. Clearly remembering my own transition, I knew the hell Bella was going through. I also knew there was no way for me to ease her pain. There was nothing to do but wait for her heart to stop and the transformation to be complete. I held her hand and talked to her softly, probably spouting nonsense. I said the kinds of things you say when someone is sick and cannot understand—when you're talking to yourself because there is nothing else you _can_ do.

Esme and Alice's excitement was background noise, easily ignored. They were anxious to get to know this young woman who had enchanted me. I couldn't share their excitement until Bella was changed and willingly at my side.

I'm not sure how long I spent beside her, telling her how sorry I was and how much I was looking forward to our new life. When I heard Alice moving in the hall, I paid her no mind, focusing on Bella.

Alice came in, carrying a stack of clothes she'd pulled from Esme's closet. She wondered if she could talk me into letting her give Bella a sponge-bath. "Edward, let me clean her up. You'll both be more comfortable."

I didn't look at her. "Go away."

"But it must be difficult to sit so close to her. She's covered—"

"It doesn't matter!" I rarely raised my voice, and I saw Alice's face fall before I turned back to Bella.

Did she think I couldn't smell the blood? Bella's scent called to me the entire time I sat with her, but I would happily live with the constant burn, if it meant she came back to me. It was what I deserved, after all. We were burning together.

"Edward, we're just trying to help, if we can."

"I said it's fine. Just go." I waved her away.

As she left, Alice swayed, grabbing the doorframe. Instinctively, I reached into her head. The vision was faded and grainy, flickering like old-time television reception, but the lack of clarity made it no less horrifying. I was in this very room, guarding Bella's lifeless form. Carlisle was speaking to me softly, reaching toward the body.

The vision blinked out, and Alice took a step back, looking from me to Bella and back. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No! You're wrong!"

She backed away, as confused as I was. "It can't be right, Edward. We both know I can't see her."

_If Bella were dead, Alice might be able to see her body._ We were both thinking it.

No. I refused to believe it. Bella would come out of this whole and reborn. If she was angry about how the change had happened, I'd let her rant and rage at me. She was good at that. I'd take whatever punishment she meted out, as long as she was with me.

I started singing softly to her, knowing the others could hear but no longer caring. As I sang, I pushed her hair out of her face, occasionally kissing her temple or her cheeks.

Carlisle would come and go, working busily, taking readings and measurements. He repeatedly checked Bella from head-to-toe, paying extra attention to skin and temperature and listening to her heart and lungs. He hadn't spent this much time with Esme, Rosalie, or Emmett during their changes. Maybe he was using this opportunity to gather data. Eventually, Esme came to sit with Bella, and Carlisle pulled me into the hall.

"Edward, something is wrong. I have never seen a transition like this. The wound is healing, as it should, but there have been no changes to her skin tone or body temperature. Her lungs are still congested with blood and, therefore, difficult to measure. However, her heart is slowing down, not speeding up. It's like nothing I've seen before."

I shook my head, trying to follow his words. "What are you saying?"

"I need you to understand. Other than the wound healing, I would believe she's dying. There is no indication of the change." He ran his hand through his hair, in a rare show of agitation. "There are legends of people who don't make it through the transformation. She may be one of those cases." He lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Son, but you need to be prepared if that's the case. There's nothing to do but wait."

My earlier fears were justified. I _had_ done something wrong! I just couldn't figure out what.

"What can you do? There must be more we can try." I'd rarely heard Carlisle sound pessimistic, and it was adding to my fear.

"I suppose you could try adding more venom. Perhaps using new pulse points?"

Anything was better than helpless waiting. I went back into that room, and once again, I bent and bit Bella. Starting at her right elbow, I took a bit of blood but couldn't register the taste. I never got to her other arm. Bella's screams began again, and I had the horrific suspicion I'd just made things worse.

Over the next few hours, we could find no indication that she was changing. Bella's heartbeat and breathing continued to weaken. Carlisle tried to administer morphine to combat the pain, but it only suppressed her breathing further. Esme returned to the room to sit with me, and I realized that I hadn't noticed she'd left. She sat on Bella's other side, holding her hand and occasionally looking at me.

With a vague sense of déjà vu, one of my hazy human memories surfaced. Like today, I was at the bedside of someone who was dying. Only in my memory, my mother occupied Esme's chair, crying softly. She coughed into a lace hanky, already feeling the effects of the influenza that would take her as well. I didn't sit at my father's bedside, though. He would have seen that as unmanly. I stood in the corner and tried to look strong, wanting him to be proud of me even as he took his last breath. I regretted that. I wouldn't be emotionless now. I'd show every bit of the pain Bella's death would cause, even more so because this was my fault. I couldn't put my finger on exactly which one of my poor choices led us here, but clearly, I was to blame.

Eventually, I began to count the spaces between the slow, shallow breaths. There was no other sound in the house. Kneeling beside the bed, holding her pale, weak hand, I tried desperately to stop thinking about what I could have done differently. She would have died either way. Fate had decided the outcome of our meeting from the very beginning.

A noise brought me out of my thoughts. So wrapped up in my own misery, I'd ignored them when the entire family had filed into the back of the room. Rose, Jasper and Emmett were back, their faces grim. Carlisle must have told them the end was coming. Even though they didn't know her well, they were here to support me and mourn the passing of a life. Alice sniffled, and I looked back to see her curled into Jasper's chest with her eyes tightly shut. Jasper looked stoic, and I didn't have to check him to know he was working hard to resist the overwhelming emotions in the room.

Bella's heart gave a muffled beat. She exhaled slowly, and I could hear the painful movement of air through her damaged lungs. I couldn't seem to help it; I began counting again, staring down where my hand clasped hers, my thumb running over her knuckles. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open, and her heart gave another reluctant beat. I waited for her to inhale.

I kept waiting.

_This couldn't be happening._

This death was like nothing I'd experienced before. I waited for some great, wracking sobs, or some gut-wrenching cries of grief, but they did not come. I was numb—confused. Carlisle moved forward, with his hand extended toward her wrist, and I heard a deep rumbling growl. He retreated, and a small part of me realized_ I _was the origin of the sound. I didn't want him near her.

If he declared her dead, it would be over.

For the second time today, I had a sense of deja vu. This time, it was because I'd lived through Alice's grainy vision.

I had no idea how long I sat beside her, keeping the rest of the family at a distance. The light outside the curtains faded. No one approached the bed, but they did not leave my side. We were a silent, motionless vigil, and the quiet was almost more than I could deal with. I kept hoping, if I waited long enough, I would hear her take a breath.

It was her cell phone that broke the silence. A soft vibration came from the front pocket of her jeans. It never occurred to me that the rest of the world would still be turning. People got up, went to work, and carried on with their lives. How was that possible? I looked up questioningly as Alice put her hand on my shoulder, letting me know she was behind me, like I was a skittish animal. She leaned over and gently worked the phone out of Bella's pocket, checking the display.

Conversations began behind me, followed by frenzied ideas that I tuned out. I'd been tuning them out as much as possible. I barely noticed when everyone but Alice left.

"Edward, can you look at me?"

I met her gaze, realizing she was speaking to me as though I were delicate or damaged in some way. Perhaps I was.

"We're going to have to figure out what to do. Bella knew the truth about us. Did she give you an indication Austin knew as well? That would change how we handle this."

I shook my head, trying to clear it enough to answer. "No … I … she never let on that Austin knew. Was that who called?" I looked down at the phone in her hand. Alice had a chip in the polish on her index finger. Why was I noticing that now? Something told me it was the trauma. My brain was working to insulate itself.

I was still looking at the phone when it began to ring again. It went through two full cycles with both Austin and Jacob trying to reach Bella. Alice closed her eyes briefly, concentrating. Images of an angry Austin tracking us down through the credit card receipts flashed through her head.

She opened her eyes and looked at me, but she spoke for the sake of the rest of the family. "The calls aren't going to stop. Bella is late for work, and Austin called Jacob to ask if he knew anything." She turned back to me, her tone softening again. "Jasper said the bar was clean when they left, so Austin would have no idea of what happened. Jimmy and Dave … well, we can talk about that later, but Bella's disappearance will only lead to questions." Alice rubbed my back gently. "I'm so sorry we don't have more time, but we need to know you're okay with what we're planning."

I knew I couldn't put off any more decisions. It made no sense, but it hurt to get to my feet. For the first time in over a hundred years, my whole body ached. I bent and kissed Alice on the forehead.

Slowly, I took the phone from Alice and went into the contacts. For some reason, I skipped Austin and went directly to Jacob. If I called him, what would I say? I was still staring at the phone when Carlisle interrupted me.

_Edward, stop. You don't know what we're planning. What would you say to him?_

He was right. Numbly, I nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Jasper hacked into a car rental database. He made it look like she rented a car yesterday, and it's waiting at the airport. We can also get the cell phone records modified. If we set things up properly, she could have an accident off one of the secluded bridges on the other side of the state. The water would wash away most of the evidence. It won't be pretty, but it would be far from the family. If there were any questions, we would just move on. It was almost time to go anyway." The rest of them believed this was the best course of action. They were just waiting for me to agree.

As I tried to think, more visions flashed through Alice's head. Bella's death was reported for thirty seconds in the middle of the local evening news. It was a lead-in to a larger story on bridge safety. A small newspaper article showed up on page six, giving details about the death of a local woman. That story was buried under an article about the budget crisis. Without attempting to contact us, Jacob Black transferred ownership of Skin and Bones to Austin before he disappeared. We waited a few weeks and moved on.

Life would continue for me just as it had before I met her—but nothing would the same. I knew that.

I nodded without speaking, and it was a relief to know I didn't have to make that decision. Bending down to kiss Bella's forehead, it registered that she was still slightly warm. Perhaps not as much time had passed as I originally thought. Her body was soft and pliable as I lifted her and held her close. The trip down the stairs had never seemed so long. Carlisle and Esme were ahead of me, with everyone else following behind. Our impromptu funeral march comforted me somehow.

My shoes were making hollow sounds on the living room hardwood when Bella's body shifted in my arms. Startled, I jostled her for a better grip before I heard a gasping intake of breath.

A rapid succession of heartbeats went off like fireworks—like Bella's heart was making up for the time it had lost.

When I looked down, her eyes were wide-open and terrified. She started thrashing in my arms, and I was forced to let her drop or risk harming her. Alice rushed forward, catching her head and cradling it as she fell. Bella landed in a tangled, bloody heap on the living room floor.

A jagged wheeze sounded as she desperately tried to pull air into her lungs, and I could see her sides heaving as air worked around the obstructions. She began coughing immediately, and a horrible cycle began. Dramatic, interrupted inhales were followed by shuddering, wracking coughs that brought up clots of dark blood and mucus. Not knowing how to help with this agonizing process, I sat on the floor near Bella as she worked to free her lungs. I wanted to pound on her back, but that didn't seem like the right thing to do, and I felt helpless once again.

Carlisle stood near us, watching and taking in every detail. He monitored Bella's distress, determining how he could potentially help, but he was also doing something else. He had the rapt fascination of a biologist who'd discovered a new species. Part of me was disturbed by his fixation.

Slowly, the coughing eased, and the air moved in and out of her lungs more easily. There was only a moment of respite before her eyes closed again, and she gave a low, weak moan. Watery, silvery venom-laced fluids leaked from her eyes and nose. I couldn't stand seeing her like that. Seeming to understand, Esme passed me a soft throw she'd kept on the couch. I used it to gently wipe Bella's face. She batted me away with a weak hand.

Within seconds, a new kind of heaving began. I was again useless as her body began expelling the meager contents of her stomach. Carlisle moved in closer. He was afraid she would aspirate, and he didn't think I was up to handling it if there was a problem.

It took several seconds for Bella's body to determine there was nothing left to bring up. The dry heaves eventually subsided, and only then did I notice there was something moving in the pile of stomach contents on the floor. With horrified eyes, I turned to Carlisle, but he was also watching the movement. His gaze was full of excitement. Behind me, I could hear the others, murmuring and asking questions, but Carlisle held a finger up to silence them. This wasn't the time.

I looked back at Bella's pale face as she pulled herself into a semi-upright position. She slid back along the floor until she was leaning against the wall. Her eyes were closed, and she'd pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her forehead rested on her knees. Her breathing was regular, and I saw her cringe when her tongue moved across her parched lips.

"Bella?" I felt so stupid that all I could manage was the single word. This entire situation seemed unreal, and I wasn't sure where to begin. It shouldn't have surprised me, but I jumped when her bloodshot eyes opened again and focused on me.

"You bastard," she whispered. "I told you not to do that."

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_You know I always love hearing what you think! Thanks for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

_You guys are awesome! Thanks for hanging with me on this wild ride! _

_TwilightMomofTwo helps me see the truth, even when I don't want to. :) Mwah bebe!_

_Project team beta is full of awesome people who do great things. Special thanks to shinrai and Love of Escapism. I can't leave well-enough alone and continued to tweak after they sent it back. If something's wrong, it's all my fault. _

_This transition always seemed to be the best time to switch to BPOV. We will hear from Edward again, but it will be a few chapters. SM owns all. I just warped things a bit. Here we go!_

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BPOV

"You bastard," I whispered. "I told you not to do that."

Edward flinched as though I'd struck him. "Bella, I—"

He stopped when I held up a weak hand. I couldn't deal with him yet. He just watched me, crouched and close enough to touch.

I tried to relax, moving my breath in and out. When I felt more steady, I looked over at the mess I'd made. The drops of shimmering, opaque fluid at the puddle's edge couldn't be missed. They moved slowly, rolling like mercury and gathering on one side.

I'd have to take care of that soon, but first, I had to get my body under control. Letting my head thump back against the wall, I concentrated on breathing and settling my stomach. In spite of how bad it was to vomit venom, I was grateful. The humiliation of having it come out the other end was too much to consider, especially with my current audience.

"Jasper, have you ever seen this? What's the venom doing?" a man asked. Curiosity and disbelief combined in his voice. Given his fascination, I could only assume this was Carlisle.

I wanted to be away from those observing eyes. Bracing my legs, I inched over, bumping into Edward. Too weak to stand, this was as far as I could go. For just a second, I allowed myself to relax against him. I may have been furious, but he was here, and I trusted him to keep me safe. Maybe that was foolish. I supposed I'd find out eventually.

I watched as Jasper shook his head. He was standing closer to me than the rest, putting himself between me and the women. _I'm such a threat right now. _ _Hell, I can't even stand. _

Carlisle asked, "Edward, where did you bite her?"

"I started at the neck, then went to the ankles and wrists," Edward said, taking his eyes off me long enough to answer. "It was the same pattern you'd used with Emmett and Esme." He pointed at the mass on the floor. "I never got near her stomach. There's no reason the venom should have pooled there."

As if on cue, my gut made a horrible sound, and a low-level burning began again. Dammit. I'd hoped the worst was over.

"Water, please. A lot," I choked out, knowing they could hear the rumbling. "And a bucket." I was beyond being embarrassed. Pride was the last thing on my mind. I slumped down and curled inward, hoping the grinding in my stomach would stop, but knowing it wouldn't. Seconds later, Alice returned with what looked like a glass vase full of water, and Edward emptied some large decorative bowl, dumping the contents on the floor.

"Sorry about this. We don't have many glasses in the house." She set it near me and backed away slowly. Jasper watched her every move. _Good_. _If the situation were reversed, I wouldn't trust me either_.

I took the vase with shaky hands, downing the water. I hurried to get the fluid down, and some of it flowed out the sides of my mouth. Setting the empty vase on the floor, I took one deep breath and pulled the bowl close. I heard gasps as I shoved a finger down my throat and heaved the entire container of water back out of my system.

My gut wrenched and heaved as the water streamed out of my open mouth. God, how I hated this entire process. It took three rounds with my finger before I thought all the water was up and out. My ribs ached, and the horrible taste in my mouth was worse.

Looking down, I saw the thin layer of venom droplets on the water. They shimmered, silver-white, bobbing across the top like oil. They floated in one direction, gathering into a single mass at the side. It congealed, looking as though it would climb out if it could.

I should have noticed the dead silence in the room, but I was too focused on my own misery.

The vomiting triggered another round of coughing, and I brought up a large blood clot. Spitting it out, I aimed for the venom. Through half-lidded eyes, I watched as it changed direction and rolled across the floor, circling the clot. _Some things never change._

I inhaled, wincing at the ache in my ribs. "God, that hurts," I muttered, curling back into my pseudo-fetal position. Now that the burning from the venom was subsiding, a different kind of burning had started. The better I felt, the more angry I became. Turning my head, I looked Edward in the eye.

"Edward. What part of 'no' wasn't clear? I didn't want you to try to change me! Getting shot was bad enough," I said with as much anger as I could muster in my depleted state. "Just so we're straight—no venom, ever again!"

"Bella, I had no idea—" He ran his hand through his hair, showing his frustration.

I supposed I couldn't blame him for not knowing what to say. Part of this was my fault, after all. I'd kept information from him, hoping to stop something like this from happening. Now, we were even more entwined. As usual, luck was not on my side.

I sighed. He deserved to hear it all. Then he could decide how much he wanted to be around me. I just needed to get my shit together to tell the tale and hope he believed me.

When no one else spoke, I gave them the once-over. They were all staring with various expressions of horror, disbelief, empathy, and curiosity.

"Okay," I said, knowing this wasn't going to go well. "Let's start again. How long was I out?" I asked, hoping a question might bring them out of the fog. I tightened my arms around my knees.

Cold was creeping over me, and the shivering would start soon. I didn't want them seeing how weak I was. Not that it mattered at this point, they could have done anything to me. If I wasn't careful, I was going to end up an experiment for Dr. Cullen after all. I edged closer to Edward.

The good doctor cleared his throat before speaking. "Bella, I don't think you understand. You weren't unconscious. You were dead. Your heart had stopped. We were making preparations to stage your accidental death." He spoke slowly, obviously believing he was giving me bad news.

"Yes. I understand my heart stopped. It's not the first time. It won't be the last. What I'm trying to figure out is how long it stopped _this time_," I said gritting my teeth. _God, I'm cold._ I dropped my forehead to my knees, giving up on eye contact. I was simply too tired.

"This has happened before?" Edward asked, putting an arm around me.

Part of me appreciated the gesture of support and part of me wanted to shove him off. Either way, his temperature wasn't helping. How I wished he was warm. "Many times." I gave a dry laugh, forgetting my ribs still ached, and I instantly regretted it.

"And it's happened with vampires before. You already knew where the venom would gather and how to get it out of your system. That's not something you figure out on the fly," Jasper said with grudging admiration. "You learn that from experience."

He didn't need a response. I stayed in my tight ball, wishing I could just go to sleep.

"Bella, may I? Please?" a gentle voice asked. A pretty woman held out a soft, warm-looking blanket.

My eyes filled at her kindness.

"I think sometimes we forget what it's like to be human. Please forgive us for taking so long to see what you needed." She shot an irritated look at Edward.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded my thanks, but couldn't reach up to grab it. I leaned forward as she wrapped it around me. Sighing again, I pulled the blanket close.

"Thank you," I whispered, dropping my head before she could see the tears gathering.

"Holy crap," Emmett muttered. "Edward, trust you to find the one chick who's even weirder than we are."

Multiple people shushed him, but I barked a short laugh, blinking rapidly. He was right.

"Please tell me how long I was out," I insisted. As I warmed up, the shivers eased, and fatigue was creeping in. I needed to know before I fell asleep.

"About six hours," Edward said.

"Plus ten or so riding out the venom," I muttered to myself, trying to keep it straight in my exhausted mind. "Crap. I'm late for work. Austin would have called Jake. I need my phone." The idea of Jake worrying sent a small rush of energy through me. I started the flimsy job of getting to my feet. Wobbling heavily, I held on to the wall to stay upright. Edward started to help me, but I pulled my elbow out of his hand. _Nope, I'm still angry. _

I shook my head at his crestfallen expression. We'd talk it through later. Right now, I needed to take care of details.

"Bella, I think you should rest," Carlisle said. "No matter the cause, what's happened has obviously been a physical strain."

I ignored him.

"Yeah, it looks like being dead takes a lot out of you," Emmett said.

More shushing, but they didn't need to. He was right again.

"Here," Alice said, handing me my phone, waiting until she knew I had a good grip. "Please sit back down."

I thanked her, shuffling to a leather footrest where I dropped gracelessly.

I called Jake, and he picked up before the end of the first ring.

"Bella, is that you?" He sounded frantic. I knew everyone in the room could hear everything, so I decided to keep the conversation light.

"It's me. I'm fine," I lied.

"Where are you?"

"I'm home. I didn't feel like going in today." He knew it was a lie. I didn't get sick, and I never blew off work.

"Don't bullshit me. If you were home you'd have answered your phone. Austin called me when you didn't show up and didn't call in. You scared us both." He paused, and I heard him take a deep breath. "First_ they_ start showing up at the bar, now this. I'm on my way home. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'm fine," I repeated.

I knew he didn't believe me, but I didn't use the emergency phrase we'd worked out. He knew that meant I wasn't in any real danger. Trying to sound calm, I reassured him, promising to call tomorrow. I'd explain everything then.

He was pissed, but he'd wait for me to call. Saying goodbye, I flipped the phone closed, letting it dangle from my fingers. I don't know how long I sat there with my elbows on my knees, hanging my head and trying to gather enough strength to figure out what to do next.

"Bella, you need to rest," Carlisle insisted.

I ignored him.

"And maybe take a shower," Rosalie added gently.

Her words brought me out of my stupor. Cleaning up was a good place to start. I was caked with dried blood, and I needed to brush my teeth. After I showered, I could figure out where to go next. When I stood this time, I was a little stronger.

"Blondie's right. Can I use your bathroom?" When I looked down, my T-shirt was hanging open. The center was ragged and bloody, the top and bottom probably ripped while tending my wound. My bra had not made it unscathed and hung in severed halves from the straps on my shoulders. I was surprised they hadn't stripped me or changed my clothes. "And do you have something clean that might fit?" If anyone had gotten a look at my chest, they didn't comment. Either they were too polite or shell-shocked to stare. I had bigger worries than my modesty.

I shouldn't leave until I'd cleaned up the mess I'd made. That was when I noticed the fireplace. It seemed like an odd thing for a vampire coven to have, but nothing about this had been expected. "Is that for show?" I asked, pointing at the empty hearth. "Or does it actually work?"

When they said it was functional, I dropped the blanket on the chair. Pulling the tattered shirt off was difficult, and Edward stepped forward to help. He stayed near as I awkwardly knelt beside the remains of the blood clot on the floor.

The venom had almost completely consumed it. I set the bloody edge of the shirt next to the venom. Within seconds, the silver liquid rolled onto the fabric, drawn to the blood. I did the same with the venom at the edge of the bowl, holding the shirt just above the water and letting the venom wick up the cloth. When it was all absorbed, I walked over and tossed the shirt into the fireplace. Grabbing a lighter from a decorative jar on the mantle, I lit the shirt. The venom ignited with a small plume of purple smoke. I pulled off the bloody bra and tossed it on top.

Keeping my audience in mind, I didn't look up as I retrieved the blanket and pulled it over my shoulders. When I was covered, I raised my eyes and found seven vampires staring at me, completely motionless. I hated it when they did the statue impersonation.

"Where can I find that shower?"

There was a pause before the kind woman replied. "Please forgive us, Bella. You're so special, and this is all new for us. We're forgetting our manners again. Please follow me."

I started up the steps, making a few unsure footfalls, before realizing Edward was behind me. He wasn't crowding me, but he was close enough to catch me if I fell. In spite of my anger, I was reassured to have him close.

About halfway down the hall, we made a right turn. I knew instantly this was not the master suite; it had to be Edward's room.

There was no bed, simply a long, tan leather couch. I recognized my black fleece blanket wadded up near the edge. I had vague memories of Edward wrapping me tight and cradling me close. Occasionally, his voice would cut though the pain. He was singing to me as the burning went on and on.

Burning that I hadn't needed to go through. _Nope. Still mad. _

The rest of the room was done in various shades of cream with red and black accents. Somehow it suited him. I was simply too tired to take in any more details.

The attached bathroom was over-the-top. The stone tile and countertops matched the color scheme from the bedroom. I heard Edward turn on the water while I dropped the blanket and started to unbutton my jeans, but I couldn't make my fingers cooperate. Tears sprang to my eyes again. I slumped against the sink and took deep breaths, trying to get myself under control.

_It's the shock messing with my emotions. Keep it together, Bella. _

"Please let me help you. It doesn't make you weak to accept help when you need it," Edward whispered over the sound of the shower.

Steam filled the bathroom as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them over my hips. His eyes never left mine while he pulled my underwear down to my knees. I held his shoulders as I moved from one foot to the next with him pulling them off. One cold hand ran over the puckered, reddened area on my chest where the bullet had torn through. "It's amazing."

He held out his hand, and I took it, walking into the shower and leaning against the wall for support. The scents of the soaps reminded me of Edward. I took a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of being pampered before a voice in the back of my head reminded me not to get used to it. This would end. The more I enjoyed it now, the more I would miss it later. Better to never experience something and not know what I'd missed.

Stiffening my spine, I finished the final rinse and stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a robe Edward had left hanging nearby. There was a brush, and a new toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter. They were almost as welcome as the shower. Being upright too long was taking a toll, and I needed to sit. I perched on the edge of the toilet seat, combing out my hair and making a simple braid. I was just finishing when someone knocked.

When I called out, Edward walked in, carrying a pile clothes. "Esme found some things she thinks will fit."

"I figured she was Carlisle's wife. Please thank her for me."

"I was hoping you would stay here and rest. I'll watch over you while you sleep. You're safe. When you wake up, we can talk about what happened. We're very curious and trying to understand, but you don't seem to be fazed by how extraordinary this is."

He gave me one of those half-smiles that told me he was about to say something he probably shouldn't.

"Besides, you promised to start talking, remember? I'm not saying right now, but soon. After you rest."

At his words, a fresh wave of fatigue washed over me. There was no way I was making it home. I'd have to trust Edward that I would be safe while my body finished putting itself back together. Turning my back to him, I let the robe fall, pulling on the soft, black pants and top.

"All right. Are you going to need that couch for the next few hours?" I asked, walking barefoot from the bathroom toward the only horizontal surface I could see. "I'll trust you, but if you bite me again, I'm going to kick your ass."

He tried to stifle a laugh and failed. "You've made it very clear what you think of my venom. I'll keep it to myself. I promise."

He didn't need to say anything else. I was half-asleep as soon as my head hit the cushion. I barely felt it when he pulled a blanket over me.

Waking to the sound of rain pattering on a roof, I was vaguely disoriented. I'd woken up in some strange places over the years, and I'd never gotten used to it. I sat up as memories from last night flooded back.

Lifting the edge of the shirt, I ran my hand over my chest. The skin was smooth and unscarred.

"I still don't understand," Edward repeated, obviously watching from the doorway. "I was there when they shot you. I held you while you died."

Once again, he'd been watching me while I slept. It was a creepy habit, and it would be stopping—right now.

Before I got a chance to say anything, Alice came in.

"Bella, you're awake," she said, setting a tray of food on the bedside table.

The blueberry muffin looked edible, but I didn't want to take any chances eating food I hadn't prepared. Something told me it was probably fine to consume, but so many years of being careful had taken its toll, and I couldn't bring myself to accept food cooked by vampires. I carefully inspected the shiny, red apple and decided it was probably safe.

"Please come down. We're all dying to hear your story. I have a feeling this is going to be a whopper." She bounced out of view.

Something in her comment irritated me. I balked at the idea of going downstairs and entertaining them. My history was mine to tell; they had no claim on me. If I decided to make a break for the front door, I didn't think they'd stop me. I wanted to just get up and go, but I couldn't do that to Edward. When I looked up, he was still in the doorway, watching me with a mixture of fascination and hope.

I stood up slowly, easing the stiffness in my joints and looking around the room. I was pleased to see that my panties and jeans were newly cleaned, and someone had brought up my boots, complete with new laces. My knife was still in the inside pocket, not that it would offer me any protection here. Once again turning my back to Edward, I stripped off the yoga pants, pulling on my panties and jeans. I knew his eyes followed my every move. Once my boots were in place, I finally began to feel like myself. There was even a hair brush and elastic on the dresser. When my hair was pulled back, I made quick work of the apple, knowing I'd need the energy.

"Let's go," I said. "We need to get this over with."

I followed Edward downstairs to find the rest of the family waiting in the living room. The fire was out and the fireplace cleaned. The spot on the floor where I'd vomited was now spotless. There were still a couple of chairs open, and when Edward gestured for me to sit, I shook my head. If I was going to tell my tale, I'd rather be standing. Walking helped burn off the adrenaline that came with telling uncomfortable details. I'd learned that the hard way over the years. There was just enough space in the living room to walk a few feet before returning. I probably looked like a caged cat, but I supposed that was better than sitting down, feeling tightly coiled. When Carlisle started talking, I paused.

"Bella, with everything that has happened, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself properly. Now that you're feeling better, I was hoping we could begin again. My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and this is my wife, Esme. I know you've met my children. I wanted to let you know you are safe and welcome in our home, and I hope you don't mind telling us your story."

I tried to keep my expression blank. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen. We haven't met, but I feel as though I already know you. I'm not trying to be rude, but I was hoping we'd never meet." I hoped my voice was even, but knew some resentment bled into my tone.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. We've never met. Could you help me understand how I've offended you?" Carlisle asked.

To his credit, he didn't sound angry, only curious. I walked back to the mantle and started studying the decorations lined up there. The tiny lighter I'd used to start the fire was back in place. I moved it slightly to the right, simply because I needed something to do. I knew they were all staring at me. I had to force myself to speak.

"We have a mutual acquaintance," I said finally, turning to look directly at Carlisle. "Aro went on and on about how much he admired you. By the time I made it out of Volterra, I never wanted to hear your name again."

Multiple voices echoed at once.

"How do you know Aro?"

"I knew she shouldn't be trusted."

"We need to determine what she knows before she brings them here."

In the fracas, I looked back at the lighter and wondered how often they used it. It still seemed odd they would have fire anywhere nearby. I turned back just in time to see Esme take a deep breath.

"Enough, everyone!" she said, and the room fell silent as though someone had flipped a switch.

I smiled. It looked like Mama didn't raise her voice often, but when she did, everyone listened. I liked her.

"This is not how we treat guests." She turned her head and looked at everyone in turn so they knew she meant business. "Bella has been through a horrible ordeal in the last twenty-four hours. We will treat her with respect and wait until she is ready to talk. She is our guest, and she will be treated as such."

I shook my head when she finished speaking. "Thank you, Esme, but I wasn't really welcomed into your home. I was dropped on your doorstep. I know Edward meant well, but he should have obeyed my wishes. If he had, I'd be at work right now."

"Are you saying the change and the venom had nothing to do with the fact that you're still standing here?" Edward asked, standing and walking toward me.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Actually, your little biting stunt only delayed everything and made it more painful. That's why I told you not to do it. Do you always have a problem listening?" He'd completely ignored my wishes. If I had been dying, it was my choice to come back—or not. By disregarding that choice, he took my power from me.

"Bella, you were shot in the chest. No, that's not quite true, let me elaborate. You were shot _through the heart!_ There was no way for me to know that if you died, you'd wake up a few hours later!"

For the first time since I met him, Edward sounded angry. I couldn't help but think it was about damn time. We could finally go a couple rounds.

"That's all true," I conceded. "But I asked you—no,_ I told you_—that I didn't want you to bite me. I knew what you were and didn't want to be changed." My voice rose. "But you decided for me. Somehow, you knew better. If I _had _chosen to die last night, it wouldn't have been your business. You should have abided by my wishes. I meant no, dammit!" I crossed my arms over my chest and started straight into his golden eyes, daring him to disagree with me.

"You didn't give me enough information to make an informed decision! I did what I thought was best. I'm not apologizing for that!" He stared right back.

"Wow, are you always this pompous and self-righteous?" I took a step closer, not believing he wouldn't admit he was wrong.

"I'm not pompous, and if wanting to save your bullet-ridden hide makes self-righteous, then so be it." His jaw shut with a snap.

"My bullet-ridden hide would have been perfectly fine without you butting in," I told him, close enough to shake a finger in his face. "It's been fine for a damn long time without you!"

My breathing was the only sound in the room. Edward and I were too angry to make civil conversation, and I wasn't going to continue fighting in front of his family.

"Why don't the two of you go up to Edward's room and get it out of your system? I hate watching foreplay," Rose said, raising her eyebrow and motioning toward the stairs.

"She's right. You're killing me here," Jasper muttered, shifting in his seat.

"First off, that's crap! This is not foreplay. And secondly, what the hell did he mean by that?" I knew my voice went up an octave, but I couldn't help it. There was something else going on here.

Edward and Jasper exchanged glances, and I practically felt it when I made the connection.

"You've got another talent in this family? I narrowed my eyes at Edward. "Geez, what did you do, hang a sign? 'Family-style coven collecting any-and-all talented vampires.'" I waved my hands in the air, as though writing a banner in the sky.

When Jasper laughed, something else occurred to me. Fear ran through me, pushing the anger back. "How many in total?" I asked softly, looking between Jasper and Edward. I realized I was afraid of this answer.

How many talented vamps could Carlisle acquire before the Volturi saw them as a threat? My sudden fears must have registered with Jasper. He shot a concerned look at Edward who paused briefly, then nodded.

That shit was going to get very irritating.

"It's really just the three of us. Jasper can sense emotions, and Alice can see the future based on decisions people make. In the same way I can't hear you, she can't see you. We don't know what it means yet."

"If I had to guess, I'd say it had something to do with the fact that she was doing a doornail impersonation a few hours ago. Not much future to see there," Emmett said.

In spite of myself, I laughed. Finally, someone who didn't take the whole damn thing so seriously. No wonder Austin had liked Emmett on the spot.

I backed away from Edward and stood by the mantle. I didn't know how to respond to his controlling attitude, and I ignored the comments about the sexual tension. It wasn't that I didn't know it was there, I certainly did. I just didn't know what to do about it. It seemed like a good idea to ignore it and get back on track. If they wanted to hear my story, I'd need some promises first.

"Dr. Cullen, you left Volterra in 1720, is that right?" His eyes went a bit wide, but he nodded, so I kept going. "What's your relationship with Aro now? Are you close?" I was fairly sure I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from him.

"I have not gone back to Volterra. Aro does not believe in my lifestyle choices. I've heard from others that he's beginning to fear how strong my family is becoming, especially considering the talents we've demonstrated. We do our best to stay below his notice and go on with our lives. I don't want any trouble from Volterra." He sounded so logical. I never thought I'd hear people talking about Aro with anything other than fear in their voice.

"I was hoping you would say something like that. What I have to tell you begins long before your time in Volterra, but I need a promise before I get started."

"And that promise would be?" Edward asked before Carlisle could respond.

"That none of you reveal my location to Aro, Felix or any of the other Volturi—I won't go back to Volterra. And I don't want to be responsible for bringing members of the guard to you."

Edward and Carlisle exchanged another one of those glances I'd started to hate. "Bella, you have our promise," Carlisle said.

I took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Whether you believe me or not is up to you. Either way, when we're done, I'm leaving. If you're smart, we won't see each other again."

Edward made a scoffing sound, and I ignored him.

"I was born in France sometime during the fall of 1398—"

"Hold it!" Emmett interrupted. "You're trying to tell us you're almost as old as Carlisle?" he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Nope. I'm not buying it."

This wasn't going well. I hadn't even made it out of the crib yet. "It doesn't matter what you're buying, funny boy. Believe me or not, I don't care. Just sit back and pretend this is all some scary story I made up for slumber parties. You wouldn't be the first person who didn't believe me." I stood there, waiting for him to say something else. He looked around the room before throwing up his hands.

"What?" he asked. "None of you think this sounds ridiculous?"

"Bella, you realize that puts you smack dab in the center of the Hundred Years War, don't you?" Jasper asked, looking at me pointedly.

I couldn't help it; I laughed out loud. It figures he was a history buff.

Esme must have sensed that I was eager to get this over with. "We're going to hear her out. I want the full story, and no one will interrupt again," she said, looking pointedly at each of them. The implication was clear. Esme was in charge, and everyone was going to behave. "Bella, please continue."

She looked sweet, but she got her point across. I wasn't even in this family, and I was damn sure going to mind her.

I started again …

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_Next chapter is the start of Bella's backstory. You have all been so patient._

_I love hearing what you think! Thank you for reading!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you to everyone who's shown such support for this little adventure. I truly appreciate it. _

_TwilightMomofTwo makes this so much better! She guides and inspires!_

_PTB is full of awesome volunteers. Thanks to: GetDrunkonVictory and thir13enth._

_You've all been so patient. I ended up having to split this chapter in two because it took on a life of its own. Yes, it's a flashback, but it's not in italics. We would have ended up with (at least) three chapters of italics, and that just seemed wrong._

_I don't own this. However, I do own an overactive imagination._

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BPOV

France, 1415

"What did they want?" I asked, rushing in as the king's messengers rode away. I'd been in the stable again and was disappointed that I'd missed the visitors.

Father tossed the parchment onto the scarred oak tabletop. The royal seal was visible from where I stood. With work-worn hands, he rubbed his face.

"It's my semonce des nobles. I've been called to fight that English bastard, Henry." Father had warned me this might happen, but I'd put it out of my head. The English and the French had been negotiating for almost two years over Henry's claim to the French throne.

"The invaders are marching north to Calais. I am ordered to gather as many men as possible, outfit them fully and report for service immediately." He sounded so weary.

My mind reeled with the implications. My father, Charles, was a minor Seigneur with a nearly worthless title and small holding.

"How am I to find enough money to outfit men and take them traveling? And for how long? And what am I to do with you?"

I hated that he would worry. He was right that I wouldn't be safe alone. Even at the best of times, brigands roamed the countryside, and he would take the able-bodied men with him. Kidnapping was commonplace, and the unguarded daughter of a minor Lord would be an easy target. He'd worked hard to hide the fact that we were almost destitute.

Actually, being held for ransom was probably the best I could hope for, I thought with a grimace.

"I could go … " but I trailed off because I had no ideas. I'd never been in touch with my mother's family; they knew I was alive but had shown no interest in me after she had died in childbirth. I was of marriageable age, but this summons would have gone to all the noble families, and the men would be riding off to war. Even if Father put a match together quickly, I'd end up living with unknown in-laws. That could be worse than brigands.

As I realized I was out of ideas, I sank onto the bench next to him. The lines around my father's eyes seemed deeper, and I could practically see the worry settling on his shoulders. He worked too hard and took care of so many things. He needed looking after. Who would do it when he was traveling to fight the English?

"Will there be ladies traveling as well?"

"Yes. Quite often wives travel with the higher ranks." He knew me too well and understood my intent. "But those ladies come from rich families. They can bring servants and guards. I'll be lucky to outfit myself and my men, Bella. I cannot spare anyone to guard you."

"I won't need guarding! I'll stay by your side!" The idea of being left alone with just the servants for months on end was too much to bear. They had their own tasks and could not be relied upon for company. I was often lonely when Father was gone.

"Bella, I don't see how it can be done. Being in battle will be hard enough without keeping track of you and making sure you are safe." He patted me on the shoulder before leaving the hall. I heard him send out his call-to-arms. The men would begin packing, preparing to leave in the morning.

I hated all of it: my father riding out to face the invaders with no one to take care of him, being left home alone, and not knowing when—or if—I would see him again. My safety wasn't important, and I cared more for Father than I did for the keep. I was determined to go along. Now, I just had to figure out how.

Just after the evening meal, an outrageous idea came to me. I looked back and forth as though someone could see I was contemplating something forbidden.

During my last confession, Father Thomas had called me petulant and headstrong. It was too much fuss just for taking an afternoon ride without telling anyone. I'd bowed my head, pretending to join him as he prayed for me to be more ladylike.

What I was considering was not ladylike.

I made a quick trip to the stables, rummaging in a wooden box near the door. It only took a second to find what I needed and dash back inside.

There was too much fuss in the hall for anyone to notice me running to my chamber. I dropped the dirty clothes near the door and paced. I walked as I considered my actions. The priest warned me to think about how my behavior reflected on myself, on my father and on the Lord. I knew what I wanted, and I could make sure Father was happy. That only left one more to consider.

I knelt by my tiny bed, bowing my head, hoping I was penitent enough. I prayed for a safe journey for my father and his men, and I prayed for a quick victory over the invaders. I asked the Lord to watch over my father's people in his absence. Finally, I asked the Lord to forgive me for what I planned to do. Making the sign of the cross, I crawled into bed, but I couldn't sleep.

Before the first streaks of light came across the sky, I knelt on the cold floor and held up my dagger. It was a gift from Father and my favorite possession.

I could have unwound my braid, but there was no reason to. Grabbing my tightly plaited hair in one hand and the dagger in the other, I set to work sawing through my crowning glory. It was much harder than I expected, and my heart was pounding by the time it was done. The remains of my hair fell down around my face, partially blocking my eyes.

_My head is so light. I cannot go back now._

Even as the thoughts ran through my head, I couldn't manage any regret.

Binding my breasts was much more difficult than I had anticipated. I'd never done it before and deciding how to tie the fabric ends was worrisome. No matter where I put the knot, it showed through the thin, tread-bare clothing. I did the best I could and hoped no one would notice. Tying the dagger on the inside of my leggings, I wanted to make sure it was out of sight. A poor servant would never have access to such a trophy unless it was stolen.

There was still no activity in the hall when I tiptoed out into the deserted yard. As if it wasn't bad enough to don the worn, dirty stableboy's clothes, I grimaced as I rolled in the courtyard. When I was sure I was covered in dirt, I went into the stable, dropping onto the hay in an empty stall. I had only intended to wait, but my sleepless night caught up with me.

"Who do we have hiding in our hay?" the stableboy asked, kicking me awake. "Get out! We don't take in strays."

I scrambled up. It was a good sign that he hadn't recognized me. Maybe my scheme would work.

"It's just me, Daniel." I said, rubbing my filth-covered hands across my face.

"Milady, what have you done to yourself?" He made the sign of the cross and took a step back.

I hopped up, eager to have him tell me if I would make a passable boy.

"What do you think?" I asked, turning in a circle. "I intend to go with the men. Do I make an acceptable young man?"

"Oh, Milady, don't do this. You have no idea what this adventure will bring."

"It will be fine." I waved away his concerns. "I intend to go, and if you have hints on how to be a more convincing boy, I'd be pleased to hear them." This was not the first inappropriate conversation we'd had. Daniel had assisted me many times, making sure no one knew about my joy of riding alone—until I'd gotten caught.

"I'd rather stay out of this, but I know you well enough to know you won't give in." He took his time, looking me up and down as if I were a horse being inspected for purchase. "The biggest problem will be with your voice. You don't sound like a boy, and you don't speak like one. You'll need to keep your mouth shut if you intend this to work." He circled me, making clucking sounds. "Your neck is still clean, and the white streak looks odd compared to the dirt covering the rest of you. Also, I feel the need to warn you. You will be treated like any other young man. Unlike gently bred young ladies, men and boys touch each other. They wrestle, and they fight. You must do your best to stay away from it, if you can." He stepped back. "Now that I think about it, try to be as dense as possible."

"What do you mean?"

"You know the baker's son? The one who is very sweet but not very smart. Try to act like him. The more they believe you are simple, the less people will deal with you. That will help."

It seemed like a sound plan. I nodded and thanked him, just as I heard Father calling from the courtyard. Where had the time gone? I must have been sleeping soundly when they led out the rest of the horses. Daniel's eyes went wide, but he scrambled to prepare my mare. Within minutes, I was riding her out, joining my father. Daniel whispered goodbye and backed away. If there was a confrontation coming, he didn't want to be part of it.

When I rode out, all eyes were on me. My stomach was in knots, and I thought I might vomit. I gripped the reigns harder so the shaking in my hands would not show.

A hush went over the crowd, and it seemed that even the horses knew to be quiet.

"What have you done?"

I wanted to flinch at my father's cry, but I knew I could not. I sat tall, looking him in the eye. "I am going with you! You need someone to take care of you! I can be your servant!" If any of his men had opinions on our argument, they kept it to themselves. The yard was full, but we might as well have been alone.

"I don't need a servant! I need a daughter who will do as she is told!" His face had turned red. That was never a good sign. "Look at what you've done to yourself! I'm disgusted just looking at you! How did you get so filthy? And your hair? What have you done?" he repeated.

"I couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for so long. Please take me with you." My eyes filled, and I let the unshed tears show, hoping I'd be able to sway him. I was using his love for me to get what I wanted. It was another sin to add to my next confession. I'd bring Father Thomas a chair cushion, because I'd be reciting my sins for quite some time.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He did that often when he prayed for patience.

"You have my word! I'll stay by your side through the entire journey, and I'll be a perfect lady when we return. Please don't go without me. This solves the problem of leaving me here alone."

He looked me up and down the same way Daniel had. He was weakening. I could tell.

"The only reason I'm giving in is because we need to leave and cannot delay. You will remain by my side at all times, and you will not speak! Is that understood?" He turned in a circle, looking at his men. When he spoke, it was with the authoritative tone he used for announcements.

"This is my new squire, Boen. It is a shame that he is feeble-minded." Father shot me a self-satisfied smile. "The boy works hard, but he rarely speaks and cannot be trusted to go off alone."

At that, Father mounted his horse and we rode off. I should have felt some victory. I'd gotten what I'd wanted. It made no sense that I felt so ashamed.

**LL**

"Get up, moron!"

Laurent, the biggest of the younger soldiers shoved me again. I fell to my knees. He'd been taunting me from the time our group had arrived a week ago. Whenever the older men had their backs turned, he came at me. At first, it had seemed like harmless jesting, the kind of thing young men tend to do, but his taunts had become more aggressive.

As we'd arrived at Agincourt, I'd noticed the tense undercurrent. The men were on edge, knowing that battle was coming. The waiting was like an itch that couldn't be reached, and tempers were fraying.

I dusted off my leggings and stood slowly. I was shocked a stranger had dared to lay hands on me. Was this what Daniel had meant when he warned me about touching? Normally, I would give Laurent a dressing-down, but that wasn't an option. This wasn't home, and I wasn't the pampered daughter of a Lord. Here I was just another foot soldier, and my faux infirmities made me a target. I was beginning to understand how indulged I'd been. Father was speaking with one of the other Lords, and I wondered when he would realize I was missing.

Laurent stepped closer. "What are you going to do, idiot? I hear you're too stupid to speak. What kind of noises do you make?" He circled me, making animal sounds.

As he walked, I turned my head, trying to always keep him in my line of vision. He would not surprise me again.

A crowd gathered. Young men of various ages circled us, laughing at the taunts. "Come on, speak!" Laurent ordered, followed by rapid barking sounds. I was so horrified I didn't react fast enough when he shoved me again. I flew against the edge of the circle, hoping someone would take pity on me.

Instead, they pushed, sending me back toward my tormentor.

I stumbled, falling in the dirt at Laurent's feet. A rock scratched my palm, and I felt the warm ooze of blood. I was shaking, and my stomach threatened to heave.

Laurent reached down and grabbed a handful of my dirty, stringy hair, hauling me back to my feet.

"Why are you here? What good are you to the men? You cannot fight for France! Go home!" he yelled in my face, spittle landing near my eye.

"Enough!" A dark-haired young man came forward, charging through the circle. "Is this what makes you a man? Tormenting those younger, smaller, and weaker than you?"

"It's no business of yours, Jacob," Laurent sneered, "I'm merely having some fun with the boy." He pointed at me with a lazy finger.

"You're idea of fun is disgusting. I am here to defend my home, not to watch you behave like an animal. You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Jacob said, pointing at the watchers. Some of them looked down and refused to meet his eyes. "Go back to where you came from! And never forget—the feral dog who abuses someone weaker than himself will also turn on you."

Laurent scowled and strode forward, pulling back a fist. With a swift stroke, Jacob dodged the punch and drew his arm back. His fist landed against Laurent's jaw. The taller man went down into the dirt, howling in pain. The crowd scattered like birds taking flight.

Jacob leaned down. I think he intended to grasp me under the arm, but I was trying to get to my feet. His hand grazed my bound breast. His eyes widened, but he didn't pull back. Instead he grabbed my upper arm and lifted me to my feet.

I started to brush myself off, but it was a futile gesture. I was filthy, and had been from the time I'd rolled in the courtyard. On the rare occasions we'd passed a stream, I couldn't bathe with the men. It felt as though I had a shell of dirt, and I had carried it like a souvenir from home. That thought brought tears to my eyes.

Jacob looked at me. "The others call you Boen. Is that right?" He was speaking gently, and he reached forward.

For just a moment I wondered if he would stroke my cheek, but he pulled back.

I nodded, blinking rapidly, keeping the tears from falling. So few people had addressed me directly, let alone took the time to learn my name.

"Jacob, we should go." I hadn't noticed the other man. He was as fair as Jacob was dark, and he appeared to be a bit older.

"Soon, James. I need to take care of this first."

Jacob spoke to him, but he was focused on me. I couldn't help but feel that he'd figured out all my secrets.

James huffed. "I'm not waiting for you to help this idiot. I'm going to find something to eat. I'll meet you back at camp." As he strode away, I heard a welcome voice.

"Boen! Where are you?"

It was Father. Although I would have preferred he'd arrived earlier, I was thrilled to hear his voice. I started to run to him but realized that was wrong. Slowing my pace, I walked, grateful for the security he could provide. I didn't realize Jacob had followed me until my father spoke.

"Is there a problem?" He looked from me to Jacob as if measuring our proximity and finding it disturbing.

"It's taken care of. Some of the younger men were giving him a hard time. Being younger and smaller, the boy is an easy target. You might want to keep him close until security improves."

My father's eyes narrowed, and he stood taller. He would consider the words an insult, that he wasn't caring for me properly. "And you are?"

"My apologies, sir. No offense was intended. It's obvious the lad is special. I'm sure you want to protect … _him_."

I inhaled deeply, glancing between the two of them.

Jacob was the first to look at me closely and figure out my secret. The implication was clear. To my father's credit, his expression didn't change.

With this understanding, the two men introduced themselves formally. At first, the conversation was awkward and stilted. It was as though they circled each other, deciding if the other was worthy of trust. They discussed their homes and the hardships of the journey. When Father mentioned a distant uncle, Jacob gave a short laugh and began speaking more quickly. Within minutes, they had determined that we were distantly related. The talk concluded with the names of family members I would never be able to remember. At some point, my father clapped him on the back, and I knew then that Jacob had earned his approval.

"Sir, if it's acceptable to you, I'll be happy to watch over Boen when you cannot. I know there are meetings you must attend to discuss the upcoming offensive. I'll protect the boy when you are away."

My father turned to me. "Is that agreeable to you? It would give you someone to spend time with when I am away."'

I nodded and smiled at them both, grateful for the prospect of spending time with someone other than my father.

The next day, I sat behind Jacob, holding his sides as we rode out of camp. He had suggested we spend the day exploring while my father was busy. "Who are they?" I asked, whispering in his ear, marveling at what seemed to be acres of tents outside the main base camp.

Because Jacob knew the truth, I didn't see the point in continuing to pretend I couldn't speak. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

"They're camp followers. A few craftsmen, healers, traders and other people who try to make money from the soldiers. The majority of them are whores, though."

I gasped and did my best to look around without staring. I'd heard there were women who sold their favors, but I'd never actually seen one.

"I'm sorry if I shocked you. I've been with men so long, I forget what it's like to be in a lady's company."

"I'm no longer sure I'm a lady," I said, suddenly uncomfortable that I was so close to him.

"You are still a lady, no matter the circumstances that brought you here. What are you called, truly?"

"Bella."

"Ah, that suits you much better. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Bella."

I giggled. It felt so good to be female again, even if only for a few moments. As simple and childish as it sounded, my torment at Laurent's hands had finally helped me realize the folly of this trip. During the first few days, I'd been surrounded by father and his men. It had been an adventure. For the first time in my life, I was free to leave the keep, gallop my horse, eat, sleep and relieve myself outdoors. Only when we'd joined with others had the true impact of my actions come to roost. I'd only thought of myself and my father. Foolishly, I had never considered that we would encounter other soldiers.

Passing the first camp, we crossed a small stream and rode into a clearing. This area was filled with different kinds of tents and brightly colored wagons. Some even had silk banners blowing in the breeze. I tried not to stare.

"You've probably never seen a gypsy camp before. Would you like to walk?" he asked.

"Could we?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too eager.

We tied the horse to a small tree and began to wander through the camp. One colorfully painted wagon was full of bolts of lovely fabric, much too beautiful for me to touch. A few steps down, another wagon was full of tiny bottles of sweet-smelling perfumes. A dancer moved toward Jacob, dressed in a gown more revealing than anything I'd seen before. She moved seductively while a man nearby played a small stringed instrument. Jacob gave her a smile and waved her off. The woman tilted her head as though to say, _I'll be here when you change your mind_, and she moved on to another soldier walking behind us.

At the center of the camp, there was a gold-accented red tent. An older woman stood near the open flaps, scanning the crowd. There was a sign next to her. It was a drawing of a hand, complete with detailed lines crossing the palm. When I looked back up, her eyes were fixed on mine. I shivered. Somehow, I felt exposed and raw under her scrutiny.

A child ran past, grabbing her attention. She ran a few steps to catch him, scooping up the boy and cuddling him close. In that instant, her entire demeanor changed. She went from foreboding and mysterious to loving and gentle. The boy giggled as she covered his cheeks with kisses. She set him back on his feet, and he ran off again. She looked at me again as though she knew I was still watching. I turned away, ashamed at being caught staring. Her obvious love made me sad for things I'd never know. There had been no grandparents to wrap me up and kiss my cheeks.

I shook off the thought, not wanting to ruin our day. I had not seen much of the world outside my father's keep. For me, this camp was a grand adventure. It was like magic.

We passed a vendor selling roasted nuts out of a big pot. Jacob passed him a coin, buying us each a handful. The treat was wonderful, sweet and full of a spice I'd never tasted before.

We were looking over a display of weapons when we ran into the soldier who had been with Jacob yesterday. James was haggling with an older man over the price of a knife. When he saw us, he called out a greeting then went back to his negotiations. I didn't think it was going well. Each of the men kept getting louder and louder. They were beginning to attract attention, and I saw the fortune teller watching. She'd seen James greet us, and now she eyed Jacob and I warily.

"It's probably best to stay out of that one," Jacob said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James throw one last insult and stalk away. With an arm around my shoulder, Jacob steered me in the opposite direction.

We passed two jugglers who stood apart and let Jacob and I walk between them. I laughed as the balls passed overhead, close enough to touch. I wanted to imprint this all on my memory. When the battle was over, I would go home with Father and probably never see anything like this again. As Jacob and I walked around the camp, the fortune teller kept drawing my eye. Each time I looked back, she was watching, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I edged closer to Jacob.

As much as I tried to enjoy the next few wagons, the magic was spoiled for me. I was pleased when Jacob decided it was time to leave.

The horse wasn't far, and he mounted first, pulling me up behind him. I saw the boy running in our direction, laughing and weaving in and out of the crowd. There were other children chasing him, calling out. The leader was small and fast. He was hard to see.

Several things happened in the next few seconds. James sprinted toward us with something tucked under his arm. He was yelling, but I couldn't make it out. Jacob tried to turn the horse to respond, but James rushed past with two men in pursuit. It was too much, and the commotion startled the horse. I couldn't blame her. This wasn't a battle-hardened steed. From all over France, we had commandeered every animal that could walk, and this was a gentle mare. She reared up in confusion. I scrambled, grabbing for Jacob but losing my hold. I tumbled off the back, landing in the dirt. I stood to brush myself off, making sure nothing was broken.

That's when I saw the boy.

He was in the dirt, just a few feet from me. I rushed forward, putting my arm up, instinctively keeping the horse away from the child. She whinnied and shook her head, sidestepping away.

When she was gone, I looked down and cried out. Dropping to my knees, I realized I was too late.

The entire right side of his chest was crushed. I could see jagged edges of ribs sticking out from where the horse's hoof must have taken him to the ground. Blood pooled around him, soaking into the earth. Logically, I understood what had happened, but it didn't make sense. I kept waiting for the still-whole part of his chest to expand with breath. The broken part might not work, but the rest of him looked untouched. His head was cocked off to the side, and his eyes were closed. Soft, downy-looking hair fell across his cheek. It would have been easy to imagine he slept.

Screaming began around me, but it sounded far away. My heart kept pounding in my years, downing out all other sounds. As I reached out to caress his cheek, the fortune teller came, shoving me aside. She gathered up the boy as though he were made of glass.

She kissed his cheeks just as she had before. The tender love on her face tore my heart. I knew she was waiting for him to wriggle and laugh. She was missing the laughter she would never hear again.

With the back of my hand, I brushed my tears away.

The two men who had been following James returned, holding him between them. He struggled, snarling. One of the men reached into his tunic and pulled out the knife James had been haggling over. It was obvious to me then. James had stolen it, and Jacob and I were guilty by association.

The crowd began to circle us. They were yelling in a language I didn't understand. The fortune teller passed the body of the boy to a sobbing young woman. She looked down at her hands, covered in his blood. She muttered something softly, but her intentions must have been clear to the crowd. Other men stepped up, grabbing Jacob and me. I struggled, but there was nothing I could do.

She took hold of me, wet hands sliding across my skin. Gripping my cheeks, she looked into my eyes. The blood seemed to sear into my skin. My heart pounded as the heat spread though my body. I wanted to look away but couldn't.

She spoke in heavily accented French. "May you live every day of eternity regretting what you have done." Icy cold followed the fire, flowing directly from her hands, etching the blood into my skin. I was freezing to death from the inside out. From somewhere far off, I heard Jacob yelling, but the fortune teller was chanting. There was a rhythm to the sounds, and the cold seemed to pulse with it. Every frozen part of me vibrated with her words until I was sure I would shatter like cracking ice.

I started screaming, high and clear, praying for relief or death. It didn't matter which.

When I woke, the pain was gone.

Jacob and James were there, but the horse was missing. Both men lay in heaps, their faces covered in bloody smudges.

As far as I could see, the meadow was empty. The only traces of the gypsy camp were the tramped earth and the smudge marks where the campfires had been lit. The sky had clouded over, so it was difficult to tell how long we'd been unconscious.

"Jacob." I shook him and give a sigh of relief when his eyes shot open. He looked all around us, and I could practically see his memories flooding back.

"Are you all right?"

"I believe so." I took a second to think about my answer. My body didn't hurt, but it didn't feel right, either. My skin tingled, and my ears felt strange. It felt like I could hear more clearly, but I knew that would sound insane. "Yes, I'm fine."

Jacob stood, and before I realized what he intended, he pulled his foot back and kicked James in the stomach.

"Get up, you filthy whoreson!"

I heard James heave, but he managed to get to his feet. He bent over, inhaling deeply, before standing and taking in the empty field. He looked at me before turning to Jacob with wide, frightened eyes. Then he took off running with an odd, uncoordinated gait.

Jacob took a few steps in pursuit, but he swayed on his feet.

"Are you well?" I asked. Perhaps he felt odd as well.

He took a moment before answering, "I'm fine."

We both watched as James disappeared into a patch of woods bordering the field.

"Miserable bastard. I'll find him, and I'll let his Lord know that he's a thief." Jacob barely looked at me as he put his hand out and helped me up. We started walking in silence.

"What happened today?" My voice sounded small, but I couldn't figure out how to ask what I couldn't understand.

"I don't know, and I can't explain it." Jacob finally turned to look at me. Making a noise low in his throat, he ripped off part of his sleeve and spit on it. When he started rubbing at my cheeks, I knew I was still covered in the boy's blood. The skin was raw where he rubbed, burned and tender-feeling.

When he was done, I took the cloth and wiped him down as well.

"Bella, we can't tell anyone about today. There are already suspicions about what goes on with the gypsies. People have been burned as witches for much less that what happened today."

"I won't tell a soul. I promise." Even if I wanted to, I'd have no way to explain what had happened. I didn't understand it myself.

As we walked, it started to drizzle, and I was grateful. Somehow, I hoped the rain would wash away the memories. I could still feel her hands on my face and the bone-numbing cold running through my veins.

We were met at the edge of camp, and Jacob made up a story about the horse throwing a shoe and needing to leave it behind. He escorted me to my father's tent. Entering, I kissed Father on the cheek and crawled into my bedroll. I hoped the exhaustion would allow me to sleep, but I tossed and turned through the night. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind was filled with the image of that small, broken boy.

* * *

You know I love hearing what you think! Real life is crazy right now, so it might take me a bit to get back to you.

Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

_You guys are the best! That's all I have to say about that._

_TwilightMomofTwo is my new superhero! She keeps hanging with me._

_Special thanks to the volunteers at Project Team Beta, especially_ _renircx and Jcat5507._

_I still don't own this. _

* * *

It rained all night, turning the battlefield into a sea of mud. Even though word went out that we were going to attack at dawn, nothing happened until midmorning. Father waited, suited for battle. He was restless and agitated, and he kept giving me the same instructions over and over again.

"No matter what, stay behind the lines. You are not trained to fight, and we have more than enough men for an easy victory. The newest estimates are that we outnumber the English by three to one. This will be over soon, and we can go home. Jacob has been assigned to the rear, and with luck, this will all be over before he even gets into the battle."

It seemed that he was reassuring himself more than me, but I would never tell him so. When he finally left our tent, I followed. Conversations went on all around us as the men headed to the battlefield.

_"When Henry ordered that advance, they moved the stakes meant to stop our Cavalry. We should have attacked then! Now those stakes are back in the ground, and they are well-protected."_

_"They just tilled that field the week before. We need to move before the mud gets worse_."

I heard the drums when the first assault moved forward. From my location at the edge of camp, I could just make out the layout of the battlefield. It was almost hourglass shaped with a narrowing at the center surrounded by dense forest. The English stood at one side of the field, and the French stood at the other.

The French offensive, funneled through the center of the woods, was forced to halt when it came to the stakes the English had erected to protect the archers. The Cavalry piled up against that barrier. That was when the archers let loose. I watched in horror as men and animals fell. There was no place safe from the rain of arrows. Even for the men lucky enough to have armor, arrows would run through if it was not the highest-quality steel. The majority of the mounts had a helmet but no other protection. When the horses were hit, they panicked, crushing the men nearby. Horses and soldiers dropped into the mud and were trampled into the wet, cold earth. The advancing Cavalry officers had no place to go and stumbled into the fray, trampling the dead and the dying. It suddenly appeared that our massive numbers were working against us.

The arrows seemed to come from every direction. I looked quickly, realizing the English had placed archers in the trees, not just behind the offensive line. How could we possibly defend ourselves if the arrows came from above and from both sides?

I couldn't stand and watch without doing something to help. I took off running toward the rear line, which had not yet begun to advance.

"Jacob!" I screamed, hoping he was close enough to hear. In the chaos, no one noticed that a mute boy was now screaming like a young woman. For several minutes, I ran up and back, screaming his name, searching every face. He waved when he saw me, muttering something to the man next to him before coming to me.

"They have archers in the woods," I said, frantically pointing to where I'd seen the fiends. There was no way to do anything about the archers at the front, but perhaps we could do something about the men who dared to get so close.

I had lost sight of my father, but I continued to pray for his safety. It was all I could do. That, and maybe I could help the others.

"I see them. Wait here." Jacob went back to his line and pulled several of the men close, talking quickly. A few shook their heads. Obviously, they didn't agree with him. I saw two men scan the trees on the opposite side of the field and take off running. Jacob nodded and moved back to me. "I've got an idea. Let's go."

Together, we ran back to camp and found one of the supply wagons. He grabbed wooden barrel lids to use as makeshift shields. Father hadn't believed I would see battle and had not outfitted me. Jacob had arrived with a sword but no shield. Thankfully, I still had my dagger. It wasn't a battle weapon, but it was better than going into the woods empty-handed.

"Stay with me! Do you understand?" Jacob was fierce as he looked down at me. "I promised your father that I would take care of you."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My heart was pounding, but I was willing to do anything I could to help my father and the other men.

Jacob and I started far from the battle. Crouching low, we moved between trees, looking for the archers that were doing so much damage. When we reached the first man, he gave a cry of alarm, shooting an arrow into Jacob's barrel lid. The wood cracked, but the arrow lodged and stopped inches from his face. Before the archer could notch another arrow, Jacob charged forward, swinging down and creating a huge gash in the man's neck. The blood welled, and I heard him gurgle. He fell back, and Jacob grabbed his bow.

I fought the nausea, willing myself not to retch. I'd seen enough animals killed for food. This wasn't different—not if I forced myself to think of it that way.

When I stood straight and looked at him, Jacob nodded his approval and handed me the container of arrows. We each sheathed our weapons, and Jacob threw down the cracked shield. He wouldn't have been able to notch arrows while he held it. We advanced, ready to take on the next archer.

He managed to kill three more, moving swiftly through the trees, getting closer to the battle. I was saying another prayer for my father and didn't respond fast enough to the snap of a branch behind us. I slammed back against the closest tree with the shaft of an arrow protruding from my shoulder. Reflexively, I tried to pull away, but a wave of agony shot through me.

"Bella!" Jacob called, and I heard the next arrow fly past. Jacob dropped the bow, chasing our attacker, while he drew his sword.

I heard the thumping sounds of nearby fighting before it ended with a sick, crunching sound.

Jacob returned to me, fresh blood streaking his clothing, a tear running down his face. I didn't want him crying for me. There was no reason. Didn't he know he'd already given me so much? He was kind to me when no one else had been. He had given me a true gift.

"Take the arrow out, Jacob." I was surprised at how calm I sounded. At least we'd taken care of five of them. I hoped that meant we'd saved lives.

Thankfully, he didn't fight me. Using his sword, he cut the arrow close to my body. Grabbing my shoulders, he pulled me free. I fell to the ground, looking up to see the bloody shaft protruding from the tree. My shoulder hurt, but not as much as I'd expected. Jacob ripped a strip of cloth from his tunic and wrapped it around me as best he could. We could still hear the sounds of the battle, and people ran past us, close enough to hear.

"You keep surprising me," he whispered. "My sisters would be swooning and terrified."

I wanted to laugh, but it hurt. "You need to keep going, Jacob. Find more archers and leave me here."

"I promised your father I'd take care of you," he repeated.

"And you did. But you can't spend the rest of the battle here. Go. Keep fighting."

As quietly as he could, he gathered leaves and branches, heaping them around me. It took a moment to understand he was camouflaging me. I could feel blood dripping down my side, and knew I might lose consciousness. If that happened, I was best left hidden.

"I'll be back, Bella," he said, but we both knew he couldn't promise such a thing. Jacob leaned forward, and he kissed my cheek before running toward the battle.

I had no idea how long I waited, floating in and out of consciousness. It was full dark when I woke. Fear shot through me when I realized Jacob hadn't returned. I had no idea how the battle fared.

I braced myself against the tree trunk and prepared to stand. I was ready for agony but found the wound was almost pain-free. It made no sense, but I didn't question it. I had an overwhelming urge to get moving. Father and Jacob were out there, somewhere.

I reached the edge of the battlefield and crouched behind a tree. Torches moved in the darkness, stopping every few feet. I had no idea what they were doing, but I waited, knowing there was danger in blundering forward.

Anguished moans came from the injured, partially buried in the mud. Not being able to help them tore at me.

One of the torches got close enough for me to see what was happening. A peasant man with a knife stood over one of the wounded. He slit the leather cord hanging a small gold cross from an injured man's neck. Tucking the prize into a grimy sack, the looter slit the man's throat and moved on.

My stomach heaved, and I stifled a cry.

I waited for the looter to move off and started into the mud, calling for my father, calling for Jacob. I must have sounded crazy, but I was beyond caring. There were thousands of men; I knew it was futile and possibly hopeless, but I needed to try. Sometimes soldiers would grab at me. After hearing my voice, they knew I was female. I'd hear the cries for their wives or mothers. For a few of them, I held their hands as life drained away. Everywhere around me, men were weeping, praying, and moaning with pain. The stench of feces and blood was so thick I could almost taste it. I said a prayer of gratitude that the moonlight kept me from seeing more.

It seemed that I crawled through the mud for hours, working my way between the dead and the dying, hoping to find the two people I loved. Twice, I cut my hands on knives buried in the muck, but it didn't matter. I would rather be wading through this hell than sitting alone waiting for dawn.

The sun was just coming up when I heard Jacob call out to me, and my heart leaped. He was just ahead, on his back, deep in mud.

I scrambled to him, praying I wasn't hurting the people I was climbing over. "Jacob! Thank heaven! Have you seen my father? Are you hurt?"

It was foolish to ask. If he wasn't hurt, he'd have been gathered with the rest of the prisoners before sunset.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I haven't seen your father. I don't believe I'm hurt," he said. He sat up, taking my hand to pull himself from the mud. "I must have hit my head. I don't remember anything after the last soldier rushed at me."

We both stared as his tunic fell across his chest. The shoulder was split, cut clean as if by a knife or a sword. He lifted the drooping fabric and wiped at the mud covering his torso. Even in the dim light, we could both see the coating of blood beneath the muck.

I gasped, but he shook his head.

"Don't worry. There's so much blood in this field. I'm sure it's not mine."

I didn't believe him, but I didn't say anything. It was too good to see him. We began walking toward the edge of the field, hand in hand. Now that it was light, I could see the bodies surrounding us, some intact, some in pieces. With each face, I was saddened that their family had lost someone, but I was grateful it was not my father. Until I saw his body, I would not believe he was dead. I saw many men with their throats slit, and I couldn't help but wonder how many of the soldiers might have survived if not for the scavengers. Or perhaps the quick end was a mercy for those too far gone to recover.

We had made it almost half-way when a voice came from behind, telling us to hold our ground. The man was speaking in broken French, and I barely understood what he was saying.

I turned to Jacob. He looked at the woods, then back to the approaching guard. I knew he was weighing our chances of running. We'd never make it to cover before they reached us. It wasn't possible to run through the mud, and I was much slower than he. But he might make it if he left me. As if sensing my thoughts, he gave me a slow shake of the head.

Jacob let go of my hand, making a shushing motion, indicating I needed to be quiet. It was time to go back to being Boen. I kept my head down, trembling as they approached, but it wasn't an act. I couldn't explain it, but I was more afraid than I had been since the entire battle began.

The English bastards surrounded us, and the leader motioned to something behind his back. When I looked over his shoulder, I saw a bedraggled, mud-caked stream of soldiers.

That was when I realized what was happening. We were being taken prisoner.

Jacob motioned for me to go, and I walked toward the line. I searched the face of each man, looking for Father. When I didn't see him, I went back to scanning the field. He was here somewhere, perhaps hurt and unable to search for me. My father was smart and resourceful. He would have found a way to survive.

We took our place at the rear of the line and made the muddy trek to the English base. By mid-morning we were kneeling with the rest of the prisoners. I knew the line wasn't endless; it just seemed that way. I had no idea what normally happened to prisoners of war. Would we be held for ransom? Would we be kept and used as forced labor?

There were whispers further down, but I couldn't make out the words. Jacob looked up, verifying our guard was distracted, and leaned toward the man who seemed to have the information. I never took my eyes off those guards. If they came back, I wanted to be able to give a warning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob flinch as though he'd been bitten, but he kept listening. When the guard turned, I shifted my position, slamming my leg into Jacob. He drew back, but he was breathing hard and his jaw was clenched.

He leaned close and whispered, "There are too many of us. They cannot guard us all. We are to be executed."

The horror of his words flowed over me. I'd never find Father, and he'd never know what became of me. What was the last thing I said to him? Dear heaven—I couldn't remember. Why couldn't I remember? I should have told him I was sorry for forcing him to bring me along. I should have kissed him and told him that I loved him.

We'd outnumbered the enemy three to one. He'd promised that it would be over soon, and we could go home. In the excitement to have the battle over, I'd watched him go, but I had no idea what I'd said when he left.

From far down the line, I could hear horrible hacking sounds and screams. I forced myself not to look. They were coming in my direction, and I would go first. Thankfully, I wouldn't have to watch Jacob's death. Gripping his hand, I began to pray. I had so much to atone for, and I wouldn't get last rites. I prayed that the Lord would forgive all my sins, not just for the things I had done, but the things I had failed to do.

The closer the execution squad got, the more I shook and the harder I prayed.

_… Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the moment of our death …_

I barely felt it when the sword struck home.

It was dark again. Jacob was shaking me awake. I must have fallen asleep—

Recognition hit me all at once. I scrambled on all fours, heart pounding, needing to be away. I only made it a few feet before running into a body and giving a strangled cry.

Jacob's hand shot out, stunning me into stillness. "Quiet!" he hissed.

Looking around, I could see the fires from the English camp off in the distance. There didn't appear to be a patrol nearby. Why would they need one? They'd killed anyone who would need guarding.

Looking in a full circle around me, I scanned the darkness. There were bodies in rows in all directions, filling this farm field with a macabre harvest. I started to imagine the broken, bloody bodies rising, like growing weeds. I could hear blood rushing in my ears, and circles began to dance in my vision.

"Bella, look at me!" Jacob grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. "Slow," he said, looking in my eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Only then did I realize my breath was much too fast. I closed my eyes, concentrating on slowing down. When I felt more myself, I nodded at him.

He leaned close and whispered in my ear. "Stay low, we're going to the trees." He started crawling, making sure the way was clear for me. I would have followed him anywhere, as long as we got out of that field. My knees were aching and bloody before we reached the trees. Following Jacob's lead, I stood and ran as fast as I could go in the dark, dodging tree limbs and roots. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but we kept going.

We stopped in a small clearing near a stream, flopping onto our backs, panting. As my sweat cooled, I started to shiver. Jacob put his arm around me, and pulled me close.

How were we still alive? Jacob and I both? What had happened? Did anyone else get away? I was still pondering these questions when the fatigue came down on me, silencing all thought.

I jerked awake to the sound of a whinny. James was astride a fine steed, looking down on Jacob and me. He was now outfitted in dirty finery with a fat purse dangling at his hip.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

He looked us over, as though deciding if we were worth his time. He must have thought so, because he dismounted. Sitting next to Jacob, he told us a familiar story about being executed with the prisoners and waking up with the dead.

He told the story in a dry, emotionless tone, as though he waded through fields full of dead bodies frequently.

I didn't want to know how he'd acquired the horse or how he'd filled the purse.

"I'm riding home, Jacob," he said, slapping him on the back as though they were old friends. "I suggest you do the same. My Lord is not returning from this battle, and I doubt yours is either. We can return home as heroes and fill the roles they left empty. We will have our choice of brides. We can build large holdings." I was horrified at his words.

"What is wrong with you? How can you think of building wealth at a time like this? Our loved ones and fellow soldiers are slaughtered! And what has happened to us? Don't you want to know?"

"Shut up, girl! Mind your place. Just because you dare to dress as a male, doesn't mean you get to act like one." He looked me over in a way that made me cringe. "I suggest you keep living as a boy. I doubt you're an appealing maiden. And as for how I ended up coming out of the battle in one piece, I do not care. I am healthy and whole, and I'm going to take full advantage of that fact."

At my horrified expression, he laughed and stood.

"Go home then, James. I hope we never see you again." Jacob kept looking forward, dismissing the other man completely.

As though we were beggars, James tossed a few coins at us before mounting and riding away. He sang a bawdy tune as he went, and the sound chilled my blood.

Jacob and I were silent for a long time, each lost in our thoughts. When I thought my head would burst, I began to speak.

"I want to go home." It was suddenly a need. How could I have embarked on this journey without even beginning to think about the consequences? I longed to be home. My father might already be there when I arrived. We could sit near the hearth and talk about anything except what had happened here. I could begin growing my hair again, bathe, and ride my mare. Blinking back tears, I looked over at Jacob.

"I think that's for the best. They know you there, and you'll be safe." His voice was strange, and he would not look at me.

"You're not coming with me?" I was afraid of making the journey alone, but my need to be home was too strong. Even if he didn't want to accompany me, I would make the journey.

"No. I'm going to find the gypsy woman."

"Even if you find her, I can't imagine she would talk to you. I know I wouldn't. She said she wanted me to live with the guilt of what happened, and I'll carry that with me until I die." Again, my mind filled with images of the boy, and I still wish I'd had a chance to tuck that lock of hair off his cheek.

"Bella, think through her words. She said, 'May you live every day of eternity regretting what you have done.' Each of us should have been dead twice over. I am beginning to believe we will be like this forever."

The implications of his words ran through me. "No, I don't believe that! I'm exactly the same as I was before. I'm hungry and thirsty. I slept. I need to relieve my bladder, for heaven's sake. I'm the same Bella I was before!" I said, knowing the fear was making me too emphatic. The fact that he would suggest such a thing made me want to rail at him. It couldn't be true!

"I watched you take a sword to the neck, and yet you're still breathing." He kept staring at the stream as if it held the answers to all his questions. I wanted to shake him, to bring him back to me.

"I have to find her. We need answers. Maybe if we apologize, she can remove the spell."

"I don't believe you. You're wrong," I whispered, "and I don't want to find her. I want this all to be over. I want to go home."

"Don't let me stop you. When you get to the keep, do not leave again. Your father told me where you live. I'll go there after I find her."

"Jacob, please don't do this. If we split up now, I don't know if we will see each other again."

He sighed before he answered, and I thought he sounded so much older than the boy I laughed with two days ago. I didn't seem to know this cold, distant young man. "If I'm right, we'll have a long time to see each other." He barely looked at me as he gathered the coins James had thrown at us, shoving them into my hands.

It seemed best if we went our separate ways now. What he was suggesting was far too frightening to consider, and I put it out of my mind.

The idea of ending this nightmare was much too enticing, and I would not beg him to come with me. If I had to go home alone, I would.

I started walking toward the river. Father had told me there were villages dotted all along its banks. Hopefully, someone could help direct me home.

I didn't know if Jacob watched as I walked away. I didn't look back.

* * *

_I always appreciate hearing what you think! Thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Let me begin by apologizing for the delay. Home, work, and school all seemed to implode at the same time. I'm getting back on track. Thank you for your patience._

_TwilightMomofTwo is a patient, supportive soul. I truly appreciate her. Camilla also helped out with this one, and I'm very grateful. Given the content, it seemed best to get her input. _

_PTB makes fic better, one chapter at a time. Thanks to darcysmom and TitaRitter. I fiddled with it after they finished, so any errors are my own._

_Because of the delay, I'll recap. When we left Bella, she was denying what Jacob had already realized. They split up, and Jacob went off the search for the gypsy while Bella started walking home. _

* * *

_London 1735_

"George!" I yelled, "Get up. It's morning." The bedraggled lump didn't answer. Wrinkling my nose, I grabbed his grimy hair and shook. From time-to-time patrons drank themselves senseless, and I'd let regulars sleep it off next to the fire. More than once, George had greeted me in the morning, belching and scratching.

"It's not going to work this time, Miss," Sam said, shaking his head. "You take his feet, and I'll take his shoulders."

I tried not to smile; I would only hurt Sam's feelings. He was less than half my size, and he was obviously overestimating his strength.

We hauled George out as best we could. He ended up folding a bit in the center. His ass dragged along the unfinished floor, leaving a long clean streak.

"See, Miss," Sam said, winking at me. "Now there's less to sweep."

I laughed as we propped George against the front wall. When Sam grew up, he would break hearts. For so long I'd tried to avoid children. I hated being around them, especially little boys.

Although I knew Jacob wouldn't be there, I looked up and down the street. Watching for him had become a necessity, like breathing. The first time Jacob had found me, I was still living as a young man, working as an errand boy in a Marseilles tavern called The Old Bones. He'd joked that it was a fitting name.

"Bella, your bones are older than anything here."

After that, each time I'd moved on, I'd tried to find work in taverns that had bone in the name. Neither Jacob nor I could read or write to leave messages, and I couldn't think of any other way to help him find me. He could search a city in an afternoon and move on.

Several times over the years we'd reconnected that way. We'd live as brother and sister, and for a while, I wasn't lonely. I always hoped Jacob would stay, but he couldn't seem to help himself. Within a few years, the itch to search for the gypsy woman would return, and he would be off again. When he left Paris, he'd begged me to come with him.

"You keep looking back," I'd told him, "but there's nothing there. You won't find her. I need to look forward. I want to make the best life I can."

I hadn't seen Jacob in almost twenty years.

Sam was watching me, seeming to understand way too much for a child of seven. "Let's finish up. It's almost time for lessons," I said as we walked back inside. I wiped tables and pushed in chairs, singing as I worked. Sam joined me as he swept. He was off-key and horrible, but he made me smile. His mother, Maggie, and I sang as we cleaned the bar each night. We made an awful racket, but it was better than working in silence.

"Are you ready?" Maggie asked, sounding chipper and more relaxed than she had in days.

Every other Sunday, she slept in. Her life had not been easy. Eight years ago, I'd found her begging in an alley, heavily pregnant. I'd dropped several coins in her hand, and she'd thanked me in a fine accent much too refined for someone begging. I'd convinced her to come back to the bar, coaxing out her story as I stuffed her full of stew. If he'd been here, Jacob would have teased me about gathering strays. Later, in private, he would have warned me about getting too attached. Every time I got too close, it made it harder to move on.

"Do we have to?" Sam whined.

"Yes, we do. Lessons first. Then play."

We had two books I'd taken as payment from a schoolteacher who couldn't pay his tab. Our copies of _Robinson Crusoe_ and _Gulliver's Travels_ were precious. For Maggie, they were familiar and a reminder of the life she'd once had. For me, they represented self-improvement and hope for a brighter future.

Maggie was going to make sure Sam and I were educated. Sometimes I thought she saw both of us as her children, which was ironic, considering my age. It was nice to be mothered, though.

It had taken me weeks to get back to our keep, and I'd arrived in the middle of winter. Several times along the way, I woke at midday with blue fingers and toes, wondering if I'd frozen to death during the night. Anger at Jacob and denial of what I'd already realized—but refused to accept—kept me moving forward. Word of France's massive losses had arrived ahead of me. Most of the villagers were gone, knowing the men would not be coming home. I'd rattled around the cold, empty hall for as long as I could. Eventually, the meager stores ran out, and hunger drove me away from home. Maybe that was why I couldn't walk away from Maggie that day. I couldn't stand the idea of her child being hungry and homeless.

"Let's get started," she said.

It didn't matter which of the two books I got. They both scared me. I'd realized many years ago that reading was a valuable skill, but I'd never figured out a way to learn. I was too old to attend school, and I didn't have extra funds for a tutor.

Sam immediately grabbed _Robinson Crusoe_ and turned to a worn section. "Mama, this is my favorite part! '_Very often I would go and carry them some ears of barley or a handful of rice and feed them out of my hand_.'"

Each time Sam went directly the pages about the goats. Maggie didn't seem to mind the constant repetition. She was patient with him, but she was also taking special care to make sure I learned. As I'd feared, I was taking far longer than the child to learn. At times, I felt so dense, and the fear would creep back, telling me I would spend eternity illiterate and alone with no way to better my circumstances.

Forcing myself to focus, I concentrated. The words were choppy and uneven. I stopped, embarrassed.

"No, you're doing well. Keep going."

I finished another page before sighing in relief when she told me to stop and Sam began again.

From time-to-time I wondered what Maggie thought of her life. Her parents no longer spoke to her. Evidently, the shame of an unwed, pregnant daughter dismissed from her governess position was too much for them to bear. Now she wasted these precious teaching skills passing gin and wiping spills, only displaying her true gift on Sundays for her son and an unladylike pub owner.

"Mama, can I go now?"

Sam was giving his mother that pleading look, the one that usually got him what he wanted, and I knew lessons were over for the day.

He darted out the door as I opened it, heading for a vacant lot the local boys used as a play field.

Maggie and I were busy all afternoon. It seemed that the entire neighborhood was out, visiting and catching up on news. As the day wore on, I became worried when Sam didn't return. He knew sundown was his curfew. Practically reading my mind, Maggie looked out the front door. When she returned shaking her head, I went out into the alley behind the bar, grabbing a lantern on my way.

I propped the door open and took a tentative step. The light from the lantern disappeared quickly in the cramped space between buildings. My shoe slipped in something soft, and I lifted the long skirts with my free hand, hoping to keep them clean. Times like these were when I missed living as a boy. How I wished I could continue to wear leggings.

"Sam!" I called, "if you're stalling because you don't want to go to bed, you need to come inside now."

There was no sound other than a furious rustling.

My skin began to prickle. With horror, I realized what was in the alley with me.

I'd felt it twice before. The first time was with the gypsy. So much had happened that day, I didn't recall the tingling, oversensitive feeling until it happened again over a hundred years later. I had been walking through a field alone, moving from one town to another, looking for work. Something had rushed at me, too fast for my eyes to track. I remembered the sensations of my skin tingling, something hard and cold pressed against me, and pain as my neck was torn open. When I woke in a ditch, my tunic was covered in blood.

I'd seen enough house cats rip out the throats of smaller animals. Clearly, I'd been lunch for someone or something.

With that realization, I had panicked. How would a mouse defend itself from a cat? I'd tried not to think about it, knowing I would make myself crazy. It was surely for the best that the mouse couldn't ponder its fate.

Now it was happening again. Gooseflesh covered my skin, and I was instantly aware of my surroundings. Something was in the alley with me, something more animal than human.

Raising the lamp, I turned it in a circle. My instincts yelled for me to go back inside, to sink into the safety of the crowd.

As the lamplight hit him, I could see blazing red eyes shining out from a filthy, disheveled man, hunched in a pile of garbage. Even though his clothes were full of holes and covered in stains, I knew he was my predator. His red stare took in my every breath, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I looked away, sizing the distance between myself and the door. My head was still turned when the burning ripped through my neck. I struggled, pushing at him, feeling my strength wane as blood poured from the wound.

Time began to move in disjointed bursts.

At one point, I woke coughing, each gasp filled with a stench I'd never imagined. I screamed as soon as my eyes opened. Empty sockets stared back at me, sunken in a face that was blackened and shriveled. Scrambling backward, I shifted as far away from the body as I could. Looking around, I could see several other bodies—young women judging by their clothes. Like other predators, this one seemed to drag his kills home. I backed up slowly, inching toward the closest wall, if it could be called that. The ill-fitting boards allowed insects to make a trail from outside to the rotting bodies.

"Whoa, there girl." The red-eyed fiend said, stepping over a corpse to get to me. "I thought I finished you off."

The next time I woke, I was in a different part of the shed, tucked between the bodies of two young girls. I knew the moment he realized I was awake. "Curious," he said, coming toward me again.

When I was finally awake long enough to fully comprehend my surroundings, I was slung over his shoulder, and we were moving across the darkened countryside.

"Back with me, are you? 'Bout bloody time. I'm not carrying you like a babe." He bent and dropped me.

My legs buckled, and I landed in the dirt. He didn't reach down to help me up.

"What's your name, girl? Need to call you something other than 'dinner.'"

I cringed. I may not have known exactly what he was with those red eyes, pale skin, and overwhelming strength, but I knew he wasn't human, and now I knew why his eyes were red. For a moment, I wondered if I would recognize bits of myself swirling in those red depths. It was a morbid fancy, and I shook it off.

Part of me was afraid of angering him, but I couldn't muster the strength to care. "I'm Bella," I said, struggling to my feet, "and thanks so much for the help up." My fatigue wasn't bad, and I suspected that I'd been asleep for a long time.

"Bah, girl. I don't coddle. Not you, not anyone." He began walking again, leaving me to follow. Over his shoulder he called, "Name's Fogarty. Looks like we'll be together for a bit."

"Where are you taking me?" I took slow steps, looking around. What I could see of the landscape seemed familiar. If I was right, it would take days to get home, even if I managed to get away from him. To confirm my suspicions, the wind blew from a different direction, and I could smell the salt in the air. We were near the ocean.

"The where don't matter. You're my ticket home, missy. For fifty long years I've been away. You're a gift, and if I bring you, they're sure to let me in."

For someone who was talking about going home, he didn't sound nostalgic. I got the impression he was missing out on a party, and I was his ticket inside. Either way, I didn't want to be included. "Where's home?" I asked, taking a closer look at the nearby terrain. Was there anywhere to hide if I managed to get away?

"I've got an idea of what you're thinking, girl. Don't even try. I'll nab you like a hawk takes a rabbit." He made hand motions, letting me know he was the hawk.

"I wasn't thinking anything, I swear."

"Don't be lying. I can tell."

Walking in silence, I could hear the sounds of the surf. We were probably meeting someone or crossing the channel in a boat. I worried for Sam and Maggie and wondered how I would get back to them. Unfortunately, I had a more pressing need at the moment.

"I have to relieve myself," I said, finally bringing him to a halt. "Just let me go off into the bushes for a bit."

"Bothersome wench. This is why humans are food. You're too much trouble. Do your business and come right back."

I walked away, heading for the tallest of the underbrush, and I could hear him muttering under his breath.

"Like having a dammed dog around … got to make sure it has food and water, and a place to do its business…"

Even though my stomach was growling, and I was horribly thirsty, I huffed at the comparison, urinating and returning quickly. There was no doubt he would follow through on his threat of chasing me down. I was awake and upright for the moment, and I wanted to keep it that way.

When we got to the shoreline, I stood well back from the surf, trying to keep my skirts dry. I looked up and down the beach. "Who are we meeting? Or do you have a boat?"

"Girl, that trick you're doing—coming back from the dead. Is that only when you're drained?" He looked me up and down, seeming to think of something he'd forgotten before.

"What do you mean?" I thought I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to spell it out.

"Have you drowned?"

"No!"

"You're lying again! You forget," he said, pointing to his temple, "I can tell."

"Once, I woke up on the banks of a river. I fell in during a flood."

"And it didn't affect you?"

"I'm still here," I whispered. His reasons for asking becoming frighteningly clear. I took a step back, hoping I was wrong.

"Don't be like that. It's the easiest way for me to get across."

I turned, running even though it was futile. Grabbing my arm, he hauled me against a chest as hard as stone. I kicked and screamed, but it didn't seem to affect him. He just kept walking into the water. My lungs burned, and my eyes stung as they filled with salt water. His grip tightened as I thrashed.

Twice more I woke to a crushing darkness, struggling to inhale.

**LL**

"Don't be nervous, girl." Fogarty pulled at his waistcoat before running a finger between his neck and the starched collar.

I wished I could make room in the corset the seamstress had insisted upon. I could barely breathe, and it felt like we'd been waiting in this antechamber for hours.

We'd arrived in Italy a fortnight ago. I'd been exhausted and filthy from the journey. To my surprise, Fogarty had checked us into an inn. I'd spent days sleeping and eating, making up for the grueling travel. This morning, Fogarty had brought in a seamstress and two maids, telling me that "our day has finally arrived." After a huge meal, I'd been scrubbed, buffed, perfumed, and dressed in the most elaborate gown I'd ever seen. It was a blood-red silk concoction with an ostrich feather sticking out of an up-swept hairdo. I felt like a stray dog forced into a diamond collar.

We were escorted into a large, opulent chamber, and I couldn't help but wonder about these mysterious 'friends.' What would they think of me? Before I got a chance to look around, someone spoke.

"Fogarty. I am surprised to see you here. We did not part on good terms, my friend."

There were three men in front of us. They were finely dressed and sitting on enormous throne-like chairs. The one in the middle had spoken, using precise, clipped words. Noting each of them had the same red eyes, I dropped my head, averting my gaze. Fogarty had led us into a nest of well-spoken vipers, and like a trapped rabbit, I could only think about getting away. I felt eyes on me as I furtively glanced around the room. Hooded figures lined the walls, watching with boredom or amused interest.

"Aro, I've come to apologize and make peace. I even brought you a present." Fogarty grabbed my arm, forcing me to step forward or fall.

"We have no need of a meal. Especially one brought by someone with a mental defect." It wasn't the voice of the dark haired one, it was cooler and somehow more frightening.

"But she is no ordinary meal. The girl can be drained repeatedly. She returns to life! It is like nothing I've seen before. Please, Sir. If you will just—"

That same voice spoke again, dripping with resentment. "Tell me, do you still keep the body of each human you take? It's a disgusting habit, filling your living spaces with rotting food. Your oddity brings attention to us."

"Please let me explain … If you would just try the girl."

Fogarty was starting to sound desperate. He shook me again, as though hoping he could bring their attention back to his _gift_.

I heard a clucking noise, the same one overly pious busybodies used when they walked past the pub. I think it came from the one they were calling Aro.

"Now, Caius, perhaps we should try to understand this horrible impulse. It is possible his behavior can be corrected. If that is the case, we could welcome this wayward soul home."

Fogarty stepped back, inching behind me. He was shaking. "He's lying," he whispered. "Oh, God. He's lying."

He started speaking frantically. "Aro, please accept my sincerest apology. Take the girl as a peace offering, and I will never return to Volterra. Just let me leave…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark haired vampire make a motion. There was movement behind me followed by a horrendous cracking. I screamed as Fogarty's head rolled past my skirts.

Aro came forward, inching Fogarty's head out of the way with the toe of his finely detailed slipper. "Now, what was he saying about you, my dear? It's too bad you weren't here earlier. I have a friend who is enchanted by humans. He was here only a few years ago. Some day I'll tell you all about him."

Gripping my chin, he forced my head up. I looked into his eyes and knew this creature was much more dangerous than any I had ever encountered. He bent low, inhaling along my jaw line. Shivers ran through me as he whispered into my ear.

"Don't worry, my dear. This won't hurt at all."

As he bit into my neck, I realized that Fogarty had been right. Aro lied.

**LL**

When the pounding started, I emptied my glass and poured another. Sadly, the wine wouldn't make the visitor go away. I opened the door, careful to stay on my side of the threshold. No one was allowed to enter my room. It was the only rule Aro had put in place during my time here. Once, soon after my arrival someone had broken in and attacked me, either not thinking or caring about the consequences. Aro had gone through the half the guard, touching them one-by-one, until he'd found the guilty party. The harsh judgment had insured no one invaded my room again. However, once I stepped into the hall, I was fair game. Come to think of it, that rule and the steady flow of books were the only things I'd been thankful for during my time in Volterra.

I wasn't going to count the wine. Alcohol could be as much a curse as a blessing. It depended on the day.

As with everything else that belonged to Aro, I had received only the best: the freshest foods, the cleanest water, and the most fashionable clothes. My chamber pots were emptied, and I had a hot bath daily. It was luxury beyond most people's wildest dreams. Unfortunately, I paid too high a price—physically and mentally.

Over the years, I'd slowly stopped caring enough to take care of myself. There was no reason to bother. I no longer bathed, changed my clothes, or combed my hair. It was ironic that I was beginning to resemble the dead women Fogarty tucked in his shed. Some time ago, I'd passed a looking glass, realizing I probably looked like Robinson Crusoe. I'd pushed the thought aside. Even if Maggie and Sam were still alive, they would have forgotten about me long ago.

I wasn't surprised to see Felix waiting just outside my door. More than once he'd volunteered to fetch me when Aro had requested my presence. He traced a cool finger down my cheek. "The time between Aro calling for you grows longer and longer. Sweet Bella. It's like he's forgetting you're here. Some time soon, he'll be pleased with me, and I'll ask for you." He leaned in close, and his breath stirred my matted hair. "Like one of those fancy dogs the French king likes, you can spend your days sitting in my lap."

All the more reason not to bathe.

My back pressed against the doorframe, and I wished I could sink straight through. I stared over his shoulder, not reacting. Experience had taught me that acknowledging him was the worst thing I could do. When I didn't respond, he chuckled low.

"Never forget, I always get what I want." He grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall. The glass fell, breaking and sending red liquid in all directions.

I worked to stay upright and move forward. My head was spinning.

"My Lord, I've brought Bella, as you requested." Felix bowed low and backed away, leaving me alone to face the monsters once again.

More out of habit than respect, I curtsied, cursing when I tipped to the side. "You wanted to see me?" As though outside myself, I realized how flat and lifeless I sounded. I wasn't afraid. I hadn't been scared in this room in a long time. When Aro began speaking, I mentally recited with him. He used the same speech each time he saw me. I could recite it by heart after hearing it for God-only-knew-how-many years.

"Lovely Bella. How nice it is to see you again. It's too bad my friend Carlisle isn't here. He would be so enchanted with you! How he would have loved studying you and discovering all your secrets."

I stood still, staring between his ostentatious faux-throne and the one Marcus occupied. I reminded myself that books and wine waited in my room. They were the only things keeping me sane, if I was still sane. Some days it was hard to tell.

"Do you know why I wanted to see you?" Aro asked, descending the steps, taking my hand. His expression went blank as he pulled whatever information he needed from me. When he was done, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he glanced around the room, clearly looking for someone or something. I didn't have to look around to know Felix was gone. He was a master at disappearing when there might be trouble. Seeming to decide Felix's transgression wasn't worth pursuing, Aro turned back to me.

"It's rude to ignore your host, Bella. I asked you a question."

The civility barely covering the insanity became more pronounced. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jane step forward. Wouldn't she enjoy it if I defied him? Her shriveled soul—if she had one—had enjoyed making me miserable for years. Like a well-trained dog, I answered. After all, I'd been ordered to speak.

"No, sir. I don't know why you wanted to see me." I could hear the slur in my speech. I no longer hid how much I drank. I'd stood in this room countless times over the last thirteen years with Aro passing me around like a tankard of ale. Bella was a vessel to be emptied—like her wine bottles. I laughed aloud at the comparison, and the more I tried to suppress the sound, the louder I became. The disgusted looks from the audience seemed to amplify the irony. Eventually, I was doubled over, wheezing as I tried to regain my breath.

During my entire breakdown, Aro stood silent and still, looking down in disgust as though I were humping his leg.

When I wiped my eyes and caught my breath, he began speaking.

"The gatherers had a poor night. They did not bring back enough peasants, and we cannot cull from the local population. Do you know what that means, sweet Bella?"

He reached out and gripped my chin with his cold hand.

All traces of humor left as resignation filled me. I shook my head, thankful that the room spun as I did so.

At some point, I knew the alcohol would no longer be enough. My mind would snap.

_Eternity as an empty shell is not as terrifying as it should be. It would be peaceful._

Lost in my own misery, Aro startled me when he spoke. "The shortage made me realize that I should visit with you more often. It's very remiss of me to neglect you so, sweet Bella."

"Aro," Marcus said without looking at him. "Cease toying with your food."

"But, dear Marcus, shouldn't lovely Bella know that she has earned herself a place in our court forever? For who could possibly resist a dinner plate that constantly refills itself?"

I didn't scream or cry out as Aro came toward me. I'd realized many years ago that my reactions added to his enjoyment. As with Felix, impassivity had become my only defense.

As usual, I woke in my room. For a moment, I was grateful Aro had not attempted to change me again. Dozens of times, using different vampires and different methods, he'd tried to turn me. I'd spent far too many days burning from a failed transition. At least the novelty of watching me writhe had seemed to wear off. Those had been the worst of the years.

Something came to me through the fatigue and residual alcohol. Someone was in my room. I could sense it.

"Sit up, please." I recognized the voice as Remy. He'd been a part of the hooded guard the night I'd arrived, and I remembered him standing slightly away from the others. He slid a cool hand behind my back, gently lifting me into a sitting position. Although he'd never been with me after a draining, he seemed to know that I'd be weak.

"What are you doing in my room? What do you want?" No one in Volterra did anything without a reason.

Once I was sitting up, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself. He walked to the corner shelf, where my treasures were neatly arranged. "Have you enjoyed them? I had to work hard to find a shopkeeper who would stock books in English. Aro would never have thought to send them." He ran a finger along the spines.

I shook my head a bit, trying to take in this bit of information. "The books were from you? Why? You don't know me. You've never even spoken to me."

"We don't have to converse for me to know you. I saw how they treated you, and I couldn't sit by and watch without trying to help. It broke my heart to see you lost in drink with nothing to occupy you. It was such a waste."

He sounded sincerely concerned for my welfare, but I'd been here too long not to be suspicious. "Why would you do something for me? What do you want?" I repeated. No one here had ever been kind to me.

"I want nothing from you," he said with a sigh, sitting on the end of my bed. "Well, perhaps that's not true. I've lived a very long time and watched many horrific acts. Maybe it's time I atone for some of my sins. Perhaps you can help me achieve some peace."

He sounded so tired and part of me ached for him. I understood what it meant to be weary into your bones. "Aro will kill you for coming here," I said, wishing he'd remained my hidden benefactor.

"Well, if Aro kills me, perhaps it's time for that as well. I've been in Volterra much longer I ever wanted. Time here destroys all remnants of humanity, as you well know. I'm ready to leave, and I know you are as well."

Surprise, then a tiny flicker of hope shot through me. Those were quickly followed by despair. "Have Aro kill you if you're ready, but don't bring me into it. You might be able to escape with a quick death. I won't be so lucky." I eyed the wine decanter on the dresser.

He shifted, blocking my view. "I have explained myself poorly. Let me begin again. I was well into my fiftieth winter when I was changed. It was a ripe old age at the time. I'd watched my beloved wife become ill and pass before me, then lost my only child a few years later. I knew then, and I still believe, that there is a time to live and a time to die. I'm past my time. A long time ago, a lovely vampire passing through our village offered to turn me because she wanted a companion. She let me choose whether or not to join her. I should have said no, but I agreed because my fear of death was stronger than my understanding of the rhythms of life. I should be dust in my grave. Instead I am here, taking part in things that wither what's left of my humanity."

"That's a sad tale, but I still don't understand what it has to do with me."

"I was a father once." His eyes were unfocused, as though he were looking back, far into the past. It surprised me when he turned toward me and narrowed his eyes. "What was your father like?"

His question hit me like an arrow, stealing my breath, leaving pain behind. It was several seconds before I could respond. "He was a good man, kind to everyone. He had a temper, but he always took good care of me."

His hand started to reach out, moving across the blanket, but stopping short of reaching me. "Did he love you, child?"

In all these years, I never doubted how much my father had cared for me. Even now, I ached for Father, for the time I lost with him. "Very much." A drop fell onto the coverlet, and I realized I was crying. I touched the moisture with my finger. No matter how horrible my life had become in Volterra, I didn't cry. Each new indignity had become the new normal. I'd stopped weeping long ago, it wasted energy and didn't change anything.

"Bella, before I allowed—no, that is a lie—I begged for my change, I lost my only daughter. She was a beautiful young woman with long, dark hair and dark eyes. To me it seemed that she was still a girl when a young man came calling for her. My wife insisted she was old enough to marry, and I reluctantly agreed. I lost her to childbirth shortly after my wife passed."

As someone who'd lost family, I understood that the pain faded, but was never really gone. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"The day Fogarty dragged you in front of Aro, I thought I'd lost my eyes. You look so like my Helen. It was too hard to watch you suffer. It is _still_ too hard to watch you suffer."

His voice had gown firm, and I could see the wounds time had inflicted on him. It was so easy to wallow in my own misery and forget there could be anyone in this cursed place that might be worth redeeming. I leaned forward tentatively touching the hand he'd left in the middle of the blanket. He grasped me tightly, and when he looked up, there was something fierce in his eyes.

"I will not watch you suffer any longer, not when I can make a difference. I'm ready to leave this place. I have a plan that will get you out, and allow me to leave with my head intact. If I'm caught, I will join my wife and daughter. Either way, I'll be a happier man than I am today."

"I was going to tell you it's too big a risk. You shouldn't sacrifice yourself for me. But it's too late, isn't it? Whether Aro touches you or me, he will know you've been here. Either way, we're doomed." I could hear the defeat in my voice.

"I don't think you understand. I'll do what I think is best for you, whether you like it or not," he said sternly.

"Like my father." My voice cracked.

He pulled at my hand, drawing me to him. "Like any good father." With a gentle motion, he tucked my head underneath his chin. I hadn't been touched with kindness since I'd arrived. I did my best to control my overwhelmed tears.

He started talking, and the sound rumbled though his chest. "This is what we're going to do…" I listened with fascinated horror, and for the first time in thirteen years, I felt a tiny bit of hope.

He'd obviously been planning a long time. If his scheme went well, I would be free by morning.

A few short hours later, I peeked before closing my eyes again. There was a gap between the edge of the wagon and the blanket that had been thrown over us. After so many years of candlelight, that tiny bit of sunrise was a ray of hope that burned.

My heart beat frantically, and I was sure the driver could hear it over the sound of the rickety wheels and the horses' hooves. The rest of the wagon was silent. The dead were generally a quiet bunch. It had been Remy's idea to drain me. He'd loaded my lifeless body into the wagon full of last night's dinner. Now that I was awake, all I had to do was wait for the driver to stop somewhere along the way. With a bit of luck, I could slip away unnoticed. I was hoping it would go well. Luck was not normally with me, but I hoped this time was different.

Remy had spelled out exactly what I would need to do along the road, who I should talk to, and where I should go. He'd tucked a few gold coins into my pocket, and I was now headed to Rome. There was a banker waiting with an account in my name. I could sail anywhere I chose.

Like a good father, Remy had planned for me well. I would always be grateful. As the wagon rolled along, I said a prayer for his soul, hoping he was happy, no matter where he was.

* * *

_That is the last of the flashbacks, I promise. I miss Edward. We'll hear from him again in the next chapter._

_Thanks for reading!_


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